A Tale of Two Princes
by Spiderlass
Summary: (Arranged Marriage AU) Wander is the free-spirited prince of the Star Nomad Empire, is best friends with his personal guard/ childhood pal, Sylvia, and the youngest of three children. He's also recently become engaged. To a man whose face is always hidden. This can only end well.
1. Arrangements

"Where _is _that boy?!" Ana yelled as guards and servants alike rushed around the halls of the palace. "I told him to be here at noon, and guess what? It's a quarter til, and is he here?! NO! I swear, that boy is SO gonna get it when he gets back here!"

"Your concern for your one and only son is truly touching, my love." Hope stated as she dismissed the guard she had been speaking with.

Ana rolled her eyes and glared at her wife. "Oh, really. I don't see _you _sending a search party after him!"

The laid-back queen chuckled, patting her wife on the shoulder. "Darling, Wander is a big boy. He can handle himself. Besides, you know as well as I do that he never goes anywhere without that Zbornak friend of his- uh, what's her name, Cecilia? Sara?"

"Sylvia?"

"No, that's not it. Ah, well. Back to the point, if they run into trouble, Whatshername will give 'em what-for!"

The bespectacled queen sighed. "It's not that I don't think Wander and Sylvia- which _is _her name, by the way- can't handle anything that comes their way. I'm worried because they _can._" She looked at her wife, concern evident in her eyes. "What if they don't come back, Hope? Wander was very clear about not wanting to go through with this, and-!"

"Darling, if you were talking about Corsair, I might agree with you. But you know as well as I do that Wander isn't the type to run away from anything." She snorted. "Even if running away is in his best interests."

Her wife smiled despite herself, sighing. "I suppose you're right. Still, I would think he'd be back by now."

"Ah, you know our boy. Kid's a natural-born explorer. I wouldn't be surprised if he and Celia-"

"Sylvia."

"Right, her, are just wandering- no pun intended- around the woods; they probably just lost track of time. I'll bet you anything that they'll come running back here the minute they remember."

Ana gave her a doubtful look, but sighed, shaking her head. "I hope you're right, darling."

"Hey, don't worry! I'm always right, remember? Besides, our guest isn't going to be here for another-!"

"Your Majesties!" A guard shouted, standing at attention as the doors opened behind him. "Presenting, Her Majesty, Queen Andromache Derinoe Gramaire Visigoth of the Morterian Empire!"

The pair stared at their guest for a moment, then turned to each other.

"'Always right', huh?" Ana snapped, her eyes cold and angry.

"Heh, w-well, there's... there's a first time for everything, right?"

* * *

"Syyylllviiiia..." Wander whined as he and his best friend/ personal guard ran towards the palace. "Why did you remind me that she was coming _today?!"_

"I tried, but _you _insisted on helping that kid get their pet out of a tree!" She retorted indignantly as they ran inside and up the stairs.

The prince didn't seem to hear her, instead dashing towards his chambers, slamming the doors behind him. "Late, late, I'm so late, Mother is probably worried sick, and Mom probably hasn't made her feel any better-!" There was a crash. "Ow..."

"Wander?" Sylvia asked cautiously as she knocked on the door. "You okay in there?"

The door opened suddenly, and Wander ran out, pulling on his robes haphazardly. "I'm fine! We have to hurry!"

"Hey, your hair-!" Sylvia started as she grabbed her friend, trying to pull the long orange locks back into the braid. Wander groaned, swatting her hands away and breaking back into a run.

"Leave it! We don't have time! For all we know the queen of- of- of wherever it is could be getting ready to leave!"

* * *

"... Once again, Your Majesty, I'm terribly sorry about our son. I can't tell you how mortifying it is for us." Ana turned to glare at her wife. "Right, love?"

"Of course, dear. Although, I have to say that I'm not entirely surprised that he didn't-" Ana quickly elbowed her spouse, shutting her up.

"We're very disappointed in him."

"Do not despair." The statuesque queen stated. "There is purpose behind all things. However unfortunate it may be, the marriage was simply not meant to happen." With that, Andromache turned, walking towards her ship. "I thank you for your hospitality, and wish you all the best in your endeavors."

Just then, the doors at the other end of the hall burst open. "W-WAIT! Wait, wait, wait!"

Everyone turned towards the door; Hope and Ana both gaped in disbelief.

"Wander?!"

The orange-furred prince dashed towards them, panting when he finally reached the entrance. "I'm so sorry that I'm late! I was- I just- I..." He paused, thinking for a moment, then sighing. "I won't lie- I lost track of time because I was helping one of the village children. See, this little girl's bearcat had gotten stuck in a tree, and-"

"Wander, just..." Ana sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead. "Just stop. Stop making excuses. Please."

Wander stared at her for a moment, then looked away sadly, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

He'd known that they'd be disappointed.

But he hadn't thought they'd look like they had been expecting him not to show.

He really shouldn't have been surprised. After all, this was, what, the fifth meeting he'd failed to show up to?

Why did it hurt to know that they'd given up on him?

"Excuse me."

The three of them turned, staring at the foreign queen inquisitively.

"Am I to assume that this young man is Prince Wander?"

Wander stared up at her for a moment, unable to speak. "I, um, I... wow, you're really tall."

"WANDER!" His parents shouted, mortified.

Andromache, however, smiled for the first time since she arrived on planet. "Thank you. I couldn't help but overhear the reason for your tardiness."

The orange prince flushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Er, um, well-"

"I must say, you seem to be an incredibly kind young man."

Wander blinked, looking up at her in disbelief. "R... Really?"

"Indeed. Forgive me if I'm being a bit forward, but you seem to possess the exact qualities I would like for my son's spouse to have." She turned towards Ana. "Perhaps it _was _not Fate's design that this marriage should not happen." She gestured towards the hall. "Might we continue this conversation inside?"

Ana simply stared at her, wide-eyed and frozen with shock. Hope cleared her throat, patting her wife on the back.

"Love? I hate to tell you this, but when someone asks you a question, you are generally expected to give them an answer."

The bespectacled queen blinked, shaking her head. She shot a quick glare at her wife, then smiled nervously at Andromache. "O-Of... Of course. Please, come in."

As they walked inside, Ana shot her son a quick smile, and Hope gave him a huge grin and a thumbs up.

Wander smiled weakly, trying to ignore the horrible, sickening sinking feeling in his stomach.

What had he done?

**A/N: Welp. Here I am again. Cross-posting another fic from tumblr.**

**Yep.**


	2. Farewell

Wander sighed, staring at the suitcase that was half-packed.

It seemed like only yesterday that Queen Andromache had first come to his home.

Yet here he was, a month later, and only one day away from leaving for the Morterian homeworld, to live in a new castle and marry a man he'd never met, far away from anything he'd ever known.

He sighed once more, laying down on his bed.

"What am I doing?" He wondered aloud to himself. "Am I really ready to leave home?" Wander rolled over onto his stomach. "And... what do I know about this place that I'm supposed to go to? About this man that I'm supposed to... to marry?" He groaned and leaned down into the comforter. "I don't even know his _name._" He mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric.

He heard the door open behind him. "Talking to yourself again, little brother?"

The orange prince's eyes widened as he rolled over and sat up. "Meander!" He said happily, jumping off the bed and running over to his twin. "I thought you were in Veritas for that peace conference!" He started as he hugged her. Then he frowned, pulling away. "Hey! We're twins!"

"I'm still older."

"By two minutes!"

"Are you two still having that stupid argument? Seriously, let it go."

Wander and Meander looked over, both grinning. "Corsair!"

Their big sister smiled. "I _was_ in the middle of planning war strategies, but when I heard that my little brother was getting married, well, what kind of sister would I be if I didn't come see him off?" She walked over to her brother, ruffling his hair. "I can't believe that little Wan-Wan is all grown up."

Wander made a face. "I'm not 'Wan-Wan'. I'm _Wander. Wan-der._"

"Whatever you say, Wan-Wan."

The prince groaned, rolling his eyes. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Hey, it's not my fault that you were so cute as a baby!" Something in her smile became tight, and she pulled him close. "Gob," She choked out, and Wander realized that she was crying. "You're really going, aren't you?"

Wander smiled sadly, wrapping his arms around her. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." He pulled back, looking at her. "But hey, don't worry. I'm gonna be okay."

"Um, Wander? Weren't you-?"

"Shh!" Wander cut his twin off. "Really, guys. I'm gonna be okay. Maybe not right away, but eventually I'll get used to the life I'm heading to." He gestured towards his twin, who joined in on the hug. "And anyway, it's not like we'll never see each other again."

Meander sniffled. "We know." She wiped a tear out of her eye. "I just can't believe that it's finally happening."

Wander smiled through his own tears. "Me neither."

* * *

"Mom?" Wander called as he walked around the halls, dragging his suitcase behind him. "Mom, it's getting close to time." Warily, he opened the door to one of the sitting rooms. "Mom? Are you-?"

He paused when he heard quiet sniffling. Carefully, he stepped inside, leaving his bag outside in the hall.

"Mom?"

The consort looked up from the paper in her hands, her eyes filled with tears. "O-Oh, Wander... I... I didn't hear you come in, sweetheart, I'm sorry." She babbled, shifting in her seat on the sofa.

Wander smiled softly, walking over to the sofa and sitting next to her. "What are you looking at?"

Hope smiled sadly, showing him the photo. "Do you remember when this was taken? You three were so little..."

Wander smiled back at her, then looked at the photo. It was of him and his sisters, back when he and Meander were no more than three and Corsair was seven. His sisters were looking at the camera with shocked expressions, Corsair holding up a piece of a broken vase while Meander's hands were covered with glue. Wander, meanwhile, was off to the side, crying his eyes out.

Wander snorted. "How could I forget? We broke one of the oldest, most expensive vases in the entire castle! I thought that Mother was going to throw us in the dungeon!"

Hope laughed softly. "There hasn't been a dungeon since the castle was rebuilt over three hundred years ago!" She smiled, then slowly started to frown. She leaned over towards her son, sniffling softly. "I can't believe it's been so long." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "When did you get so grown up, baby? How come you're not this little anymore?"

The prince smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her. "It's what happens when years go by. I can't stop getting older, anymore than I can stop the sun from rising into the sky."

Hope laughed softly, holding her son closely. "I know that, love. I just wish it didn't have to be so."

* * *

Soon enough, the day of Wander's departure had arrived. Wander stared up at the transport that would take him to his new home. He gripped the handle of his suitcase tightly, feeling his heart thumping in his chest.

Sylvia patted her friend on the shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. It's gonna be okay."

Wander smiled up at her, then took a deep breath. "I... I know." He glanced back at his family one more time, his mom and his sisters smiling at him.

His mother, however, was entirely neutral.

Wander swallowed hard, trying to not let his disappointment show. With another deep breath, he started to walk towards the ship, Sylvia walking beside him.

"Wander!"

The prince paused, turning around just in time for his mother to crash into him, hugging him tightly.

"I'm going to miss you so much." Ana said softly between sobs.

Wander paused for only a minute before hugging her back. "I'll miss you too, Mother."

* * *

Wander fidgeted quietly in his seat, occasionally glancing out the window to stare at the cosmos passing by. Sylvia had gone to speak with one of the guards from the Empire, though Wander hadn't exactly understood what they were going to speak about.

So here he was, all alone, on the way to his new home, where he would marry a man that he still hadn't met, one whose name he didn't even know.

He sighed, smiling when he saw how the glass fogged up. The prince started to draw shapes in the fog with his finger, tracing shapes into the white area. He smiled as the fog faded along with the shapes, momentarily forgetting about his situation.

He heard the doors to the lounge hiss open. "Mind if I join you?"

Wander jumped in his seat, looking like a deer in the headlights as he looked at the visitor, who turned out to be Queen Andromache.

"A-Ah, no, I don't mind. Not at all!"

Andromache smiled reassuringly, sitting next to him near the window. "Darling, there's no need to be so jumpy. We're going to be in-laws, after all."

Wander laughed nervously, pulling at his braid. "I- I know, I just..." He frowned, sighing a bit. "Your Majesty-"

"Call me Andromache, love."

"Ah, um, alright. A-Andromache, I..." He took a deep breath. "Why me? I-I mean, why do you want me to be the one to marry your son? I... I assume that you know about-"

"About how your race is one of fully-functional hermaphrodites? Oh, wait, is that offensive? Do you prefer intersexed?"

"I- I, um, we have our own term for it, but it doesn't really translate into Galactic Standard well."

"Tell me anyway. I've always loved language."

Wander smiled nervously. "A-Alright. Um, well, it's called 'harmarikata'. It's... it's a little hard to define, but the literal translation is 'both-parts'. B-But, um, most Star Nomads don't refer to themselves like that anymore. There's a good range of pronouns."

"I see. And you prefer male pronouns?"

"Well, yes. Anyway, so you know that it's possible for us to... to um... have..."

"Have children with any race regardless of sex? Yes, I'm aware."

"A... Alright, but... but why me? I mean, there's several lords and governors with eligible daughters-"

"Ah, but that's just it."

Wander blinked, confused. "What is?"

"The daughter part. You see, Thatcher- my son- well, he doesn't like girls. Well, I mean he likes girls, but not in a romantic or, ah, sexual sense."

Wander flushed, looking down. "O-Oh. Oh, um, I see." _So his name is Thatcher..._

Andromache smiled at him. "But you know, your gender and race aren't the only reason why I wanted you."

Wander looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, love. I told you before, didn't I? You're a kind, sweet young man." She looked out the window. "And I believe that what Thatcher needs, more than anything, is a friend." She frowned. "For a very long time, my son shut me out, shut everyone out. He was distant, quiet." She started to smile. "Eventually, he let his sister and I back into his life, but... well, the cost was greater than anything I could have imagined. And even though he let Tuesday and I in- Tuesday is my younger child, my daughter- he shut out everyone else, to the point where he barely speaks, and when he does it's to Tuesday. He hides his face away." She sighed. "He seems to think that he'd scare everyone if they saw him. But really, the person whose most afraid of him... is himself."

Wander was silent for a moment. "If... If I might ask... Why does he think people would be afraid of him?"

She said nothing for a moment. "I'm afraid that you'll have to find that out for yourself." She looked at him. "But don't worry, Wander. I have full confidence that you can get him to let you in."

Wander forced a smile, trying to ignore the tightness in his throat.

Somehow, he didn't share that confidence.


	3. At First Sight

"Thatcher!" Tuesday shouted as she knocked on her brother's door. "Come on, up and at 'em, Your Royal Grumpiness! You know what today is!"

The princess heard groaning on the other side of the door. "G'way."

"Oh, no. You're not getting out of this one, mister! Mom's had to search high and low for a new spouse for you after word got out about what happened with that lord's daughter-!"

"That wasn't my fault! She's the one who tried to take off my gloves!"

"She looked like a blackened strestelag! And anyway, that's not the point! The point is, Mom's worked really hard to find someone else to agree to marry you, and I'm not gonna let you ruin it!"

There was an annoyed groan, and the door swung open, Tuesday's skeletal brother glowering down at her. "I've said it before, I'll say it again: I have no interest in females. At least, not in the sense required for a marriage."

Tuesday sighed, pulling out her tablet. "I know that, Skull-boy, but the problem is that it doesn't matter what you want. You getting married has two purposes: to create an alliance between us and another kingdom, and to produce as many heirs as possible. And don't give me that look, the doctor tested your-"

"Don't. Say it."

Tuesday paused, then grinned. "What, you mean j-"

"No."

"Sp-"

"_NO."_

Tuesday held up her hands in defeat. "Fine, fine, I won't say it."

"Thank you."

Tuesday was silent for a moment, then grinned hugely. "Your _résulat de faire l'more avas vuetri maen de fin!"*_

Thatcher turned bright green, sputtering uselessly for a moment. "I- You- ugh!" He covered his face with his hands, groaning. "Why do I even bother?!"

"'Cause you're a dork. Anyway, the doctor says that you're perfectly able to get someone pregnant. The problem is, you've scared off every noblewoman in our empire, and most of the noblewomen of others." She tapped her device, making it emit a blue light.

"So what?"

Tuesday rolled her eyes, then pulled up a graphic of a circle. "Look, big bro, there aren't that many species in the universe where males can carry children."

Thatcher rolled his eyes, sighing and grabbing his cloak. "Here we go," He muttered as he started walking down the hall, his sister running and walking backwards in front of him, a talent that the king-to-be had never quite mastered.

She tapped the screen, and a much smaller circle appeared. "And only around ten percent of those species live in our galaxy." Another tap, and an even smaller circle appear, the hologram zooming in slightly. "This is how many of them qualify as 'intelligent life'." Another tap. "This is how many of those have governments. And this," she said with one final tap, creating a tiny circle, "Is the amount of them that currently have male, unmarried males who aren't the first in line for their respective throne."

Thatcher squinted. "It says there's only one."

"Yeah, the Star Nomad Empire. Third in line. Don't know his name, and I can't find his picture anywhere. But! That particular empire's capital planet is on the other side of the galaxy. Even if mother was able to stomach a long trip like that- and you _know _how she hates travel- I can't imagine that the little prince would be too keen on running off to the other side of the galaxy just to marry someone he'd never met. Ergo, big brother, you're going to have to marry a girl."

Thatcher grunted. "I can refuse."

"Yes, but then mother will never allow you to become king."

"I'm king now!"

"No, you're prince regent. You were _almost _king, but... well, we all know what happened with that." Tuesday sighed. "I know it sucks gronkeymule shit, Thatch, but for whatever reason Mom insists that you be married before you become king. Otherwise, she'll grow old and have _me _made queen, and we both know that's a terrible idea. You're an infinitely better ruler than I am, and that's a fact."

The prince regent stopped, swallowing hard. "I... I just don't want to be married to someone I don't... that I don't have the feelings you're supposed to have towards someone you're married to."

Tuesday smiled sadly, putting her hand on her brother's shoulder. "Look at it this way: You only have to sleep with her once. Then you can keep a male courtesan to sleep with to your heart's content!" She paused. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

The prince nearly tripped on his own two feet. "WHAT IN GLORN'S NAME?! Who- Who told you about things like that?"

Tuesday rolled her eyes. "I'm nineteen, assbutt, I know plenty of stuff. Besides, if you'd paid any attention when we were younger, you'd have noticed that Dad wasn't really all that interested in talking politics with the ladies in his court."

The king-to-be covered the area were his ears would be, walking away quickly. "Lalala, I'm not listening, you're still cute and innocent and know nothing of the ways of the world, lalala!"

Tuesday rolled her eyes again, stalking after her brother. "Moron, I probably know more about sex than you do! I mean, you caught me with that asshole Brad right before your coronation that didn't happen-"

"Don't mention that name!"

"You punched him in the face!"

"So did you! And he had it coming!"

"Okay, yeah, but this isn't about that! I'm not a baby anymore! And- hey, wait, we were talking about you getting married!"

As the pair entered the main hall, Peepers sighed. "Good grief. Not even noon and they're already at it." The captain muttered as he walked towards the bickering siblings. "Can't you two idiots give it a rest?"

The siblings both turned to their childhood guard, glaring. "SHUT UP PEEPERS!" They yelled before returning to their bickering.

The captain sighed, rolling his eye. "Great. And I was having such a nice day, too."

Tuesday paused, looking over at Peepers. "Oh, yeah. Your new trainee is coming today, isn't he?"

Peepers gave off the impression of grinning. "Yes indeed! I haven't met him yet, but I'm certain that the Academy will be sending me the very best graduate they've got! After all, I'm the very best there is at what I do!"

"That's right!" Tuesday agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

"... Seriously?" Thatcher deadpanned. "_This_ guy is the very best there-?"

Tuesday quickly slapped her hand over her brother's mouth, the smile never leaving her face.

Before Peepers had a chance to ask what the king-to-be was going to say, there was a loud crash nearby, followed by yelling and more crashing.

"Sorry! Sorry, so sorry, I need to get through, sorry!" A small, round Watchdog in a guard uniform said as he stumbled around in the busy crowd of servants who were trying to clean up all the broken plates.

Peepers sighed, taking a step towards the young guard. "Ahem."

The shorter Watchdog looked up at the captain, his eye widening as he quickly saluted, standing at attention. "C-Captain Peepers, sir!"

"Mr... um..." He gestured towards the guard. "What is your name?"

"Ah! P-Private Westley, sir! I'm-"

"Yes, right. Private, I'm afraid I don't have much time to waste. My new trainee will be arriving soon."

"B-But that's just it, sir! I'm-"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd move it along, Private. I don't have all day."

Westley made an odd sound in the back of his throat, then took a deep breath. "Sir. I've been trying to tell you. _I'm _your new trainee."

Peepers stared at him for a moment, then chuckled. "Very amusing, Private. Now, what is your real message?"

Westley hesitated for a moment, looking at the floor. "It's... It's not a joke, Captain." The smaller Watchdog fished an envelope out of his pocket, handing it to the captain.

Peepers opened the envelope, reading the letter inside. "To Captain Peepers, as of today, you will be overseeing the continued field training of Private..." He stopped, his eye widening. "... Private Westley Fauchelevent, ranked... ranked 49th out of 50." His hands started shaking. "Please note that it is of great importance that this private is trained well. From the desk of General... General Tiresias Fauchelevent."

The room was silent for a moment before Tuesday burst out laughing.

"It's not funny." Peepers stated, his fury barely masked.

"It's a little funny, Peepers." Thatcher admitted. "I mean, here you were saying that you were saying that they would send you the best of the best, and well..." Beneath the shadow of his hood, the skeleton prince started to grin. "If this is the best that they have to offer, then I'm really concerned about... snrk... about the state of the Training Academy..." Thatcher finally couldn't stand it anymore, spiraling into helpless giggling as he and his sister leaned on each other, their entire bodies shaking from laughing so hard.

Peepers simply groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Glorn help me..."

Westley, meanwhile, looked at the laughing siblings, completely confused. "Wait, this is the prince and princess, right? That's weird. He certainly doesn't act like someone bad enough to be called Lord Ha-"

"H-HEY, here's an idea!" Peepers cried quickly, slapping a hand over Westley's face as the royal siblings stopped laughing. "Why don't I show you around, Private Westley? A-After all, you're going to be working here from now on, right?"

"But I-!"

Peepers started dragging him away before he could say something else that would get the whole of the Academy in trouble. "Great! We'll see you later, Your Highnesses!"

As soon as they were out of earshot, the captain turned and glared at his new trainee. "Okay, rule number one: You _never, _under any circumstances call His Highness that name."

"What, you mean 'Lord Hater'? But everyone at the Academy calls him that!"

Peepers groaned, covering part of his face with one of his hands. "Yes, I _know _that, but that doesn't mean you _should_ call him that!"

"Okay, okay, I got it! Ix-nay on the Ater-hay!"

"Yes, perfect. Glad we're in agreement-!"

"No tengo Hatero! Hater is a no-go!"

"...I think I got it, thanks-"

"That's a negative on the Hater talk-!"

"You're pushing it, kid."

Wander swallowed hard, looking up at the unfamiliar palace as he stood at its gates. The prince felt as though there was lead in his shoes, keeping him from taking a single step, be it forward or backward. He was stuck, immobilized by his fear.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his back. He looked up, seeing the Queen kneeling down and smiling at him.

"Don't worry. You'll do great."

Wander smiled weakly at her, glancing back at Sylvia as she walked up to him. She smiled at him comfortingly.

"Ready to go in?"

_Not in the least. _"I... I think so."

The zbornak smiled, and the Queen stood, giving the order for the doors to be opened.

Even though his legs still felt like they were made of lead, Wander simply took a deep breath, forcing himself to take one step after another, on and on until he reached the inside of the front hall.

"Welcome home, Mother!" A pretty young woman shouted as she ran down the front stairs, nearly jumping into the Queen's arms.

"Hello, my darling Tuesday! Oh, how I've missed you!" The Queen replied, smiling at her daughter. "Where is your brother? He should come meet his betrothed!"

The princess gave her mother a quizzical look before glancing around. "Who, Mother? I don't see her."

The Queen chuckled, walking over to Wander's side. "My dear, that is because there is no 'her' to be seen." She said simply before gesturing towards Wander.

Tuesday's eyes widened in shock. "You don't mean... _him?"_

Wander quickly gave a nervous bow. "P-Prince Wander Astreir Coronan o-of the Star Nomad Empire, at your service."

The princess stared at him for another moment, then curtsied, never taking her eyes off of the prince. "Princess Tuesday Wisteria Gramaire Visigoth of the Morterian Empire, at yours." She looked over at her mother, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm impressed mother! It seems you _do_ listen after all!"

"My darling, there is nothing that goes on in this castle that I do not know about." The Queen replied cooly, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Now, where _is _that son of mine? I meant it when I said he should meet his betrothed."

"Oh, well, hold on, I'll go get- Oh!" She exclaimed when she looked up at the stairs. "Well, nevermind, then! Hello, brother!"

Wander looked up at the stairs, his eyes wide and nervous. There, with a gloved hand resting on the stairwell, was a tall man in a red cloak, with yellow, lightning-bolt shaped horns just like his mother and his sister. His face was hidden away by the shadows of the hood he wore, and he said nothing.

Tuesday rushed over to Wander's side. "Thatcher, my dear brother, this is _Prince_ Wander Astreir Coronan of the Star Nomad Empire," She told him, emphasizing the title. "He's your betrothed."

Wander gave another nervous bow. "I'm... I'm very glad to meet you, Your Highness. I... I know that this might be a bit odd, well I think it is at least, I mean, we've only just met and we're engaged, but I hope that you and I can at least become... friends..." Wander trailed off as he straightened, looking back at the stairs.

The very empty stairs.

"Thatcher Solomon Gramaire Visigoth! Get back here, you oaf!"

Wander felt his heart sink as the princess started racing up the stairs after her brother. "Did... Did I say something wrong?"

The princess halted, turning around to face the small prince. "Oh, no! Darling, no, you were perfect, absolutely adorable! My brother is just a big, stupid diaper baby!" She yelled the last bit as she ran up the rest of the stairs, turning the corner.

The queen sighed. "Oh, dear."

_That... that could have gone a lot better._

"Thatcher! Come out this instant, you insensitive idiot!" Tuesday demanded as she pounded on the door to her brother's room.

"No! I'm never going out there again! Not if he's out there!"

The princess groaned, resting her head against the door. "Thatcher, don't you remember? This prince is the only one in the entire galaxy who fits both your requirements and the requirements of being the consort to a king! He's completely perfect!"

"I know! That's the problem!"

Tuesday paused. "What?"

"H-He's... he's perfect, Tuesday. He's sweet, and cute, and-"

"Oh. Oh, my gob, are you telling me that you have a _crush _on your intended?"

"Wh- N-No!"

"Oh my gob you do! You've got a giant crush on Prince Wander!"

"Sh-Shut up!"

"You're in there blushing like an idiot, aren't you!"

"Y-You're not helping me with my problem!"

"Well, you know what this means, don't you? You _have _to marry him! He's perfect for you!"

"But I'm not perfect for him!"

"Eh, details." Tuesday took a step back from the door. "Don't worry, big bro! I'll get that boy to fall in love with you if it's the last thing I do!" _Then maybe you'll stop being miserable all the time._

Behind the door, Thatcher groaned. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of..."

**A/N: *: What Tuesday says here is pretty much "The end result of making love with your hand" in Morterian (their native language). **

**The language everyone normally uses, in both this verse and canon, is probably a standard galactic language.**


	4. Little Talks

Life in Morteria wasn't as different from life back home as Wander had originally thought.

Sure, the castle was a lot bigger (though that would make sense, seeing as the native people here weren't a maximum of five feet tall), and sure, the people here weren't as friendly (for the most part many of them seemed to ignore Wander), but the Queen was kind to him, as was the princess, and he still had Sylvia. Plus, he had the freedom to go where he wanted, although there were some areas of the castle where the little prince wasn't allowed to go.

But... even though he had been there for over a week, Wander hadn't heard his intended speak a single word, whether it was directed at him or not. He'd tried to talk to Thatcher, of course, but it seemed as if every word he spoke never reached the king-to-be's ears. He would always just stay still, never seeming to react to anything, a statue draped with a red hooded cloak.

And that was another thing. In all the time he'd been there, he'd never once seen the other prince's face. It was always hidden by that bright red cloak, the hood covering his face in darkness. Wander didn't understand why his intended felt like he had to hide his face. What was he hiding?

Did it have to do with what the Queen had said to him before they'd arrived in Morteria? That thing about how Thatcher shut the world out, about how he'd barely even let his own mother and sister in?

She had said something about how Thatcher was afraid of something... afraid of himself, but why? And why did she think that Wander would be able to help him?

The orange prince sighed, turning a corner for what had to be the one hundredth time. He'd had far too much time to himself in the past month. Sylvia had been busy with her new job.

They had both been very surprised to find out that the Queen had fired the captain of the Royal Guard (according to her, the former captain was a 'self-centered prick') and made Sylvia the new captain.

The Queen was a strange woman, in retrospect.

"Mr. Prince Wander!"

The prince turned, smiling when he saw the group of small children looking back at him. "Oh! Hello, kids!"

One of the Watchdog children, Iris, ran over to him, holding up a book. "We found a new story today! Can you read it to us, please please please?"

Wander laughed, taking the book and looking at the cover. "Oh! The Nobbit, I used to love this book when I was little!" He smiled at them. "Alright, I'd love to read this again!"

A great cheer rose up from the crowd of children, who proceeded to run over into the library, all chattering excitedly in anticipation.

Wander chuckled, holding the book close to him and following them inside.

"Would you just talk to him already?!"

Thatcher rolled his eyes for what had to be the hundredth time that day. "Will you just leave it alone, Tuesday? I'll talk to him when I'm ready!"

"Oh, and when will that be? When you have twelve little royal children running around and driving Peepers up the wall?"

Thatcher nearly tripped over the rug. "W-Wh- Would you cut that out?!"

"Hey, you and I both know that's what gonna happen eventually! Sooner or later, you're gonna get married to this guy, and then you're gonna have to-"

"Stooooooop." The prince regent moaned, covering where his ears should be and walking away as fast as possible.

Tuesday rolled her eyes, chasing after her brother. "Oh, grow up! Anyway, this is the guy that you're gonna be with for the rest of your admittedly unnatural life, and you have to talk to him at some point. Better sooner than later, right?"

"I'm gonna have to disagree with you there. I'd rather not scare off my intended, especially..." He trailed off, clamping his mouth shut.

"Especially since you've got a big 'ol crush on the guy?" Tuesday supplied, her lips twisted into a mischievous grin.

Even with the hood over his head, Tuesday could tell that he was blushing so brightly that he could be seen from light years away.

"... Shut up." Thatcher huffed, walking a little faster.

"You can't run away from this forever, you know!"

"Well I can damn well try, can't I?"

The two siblings, as always, began to bicker as they walked, earning tired sighs and rolled eyes from servants and guards alike as they passed by, only to pause when they reached the entrance to the library.

"... 'And of course they did none of these dreadful things, and everything was cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning, while the nobbit was turning round and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing.' I bet that he was making faces like... this!"

At this, the orange prince made a comically worried face, making all the children crowded around him laugh.

"Aww... Isn't that cute?" The princess said, smiling at the scene. "Look at that, Thatch. It seems that the future other-male-parent of your children is good with them." She patted him on the shoulder. "Good for you."

Her brother, however, wasn't actually listening to her. Instead, he stared at his betrothed, imagining Wander surrounded by, instead of the children of the servants of the palace, tiny children with bright red hair and green eyes, hanging on his every word as he spoke in unique voices for each character, giggling and smiling and...

Thatcher swallowed, shocked at how much he'd like that.

Suddenly, Wander caught sight of the siblings, waving at them. Tuesday grinned, strolling over to the group.

"Hey! What's going on here?"

"Oh, I'm just reading with the kids." Wander answered as she sat down next to him, holding up the book cover for her to see. "I used to love this book when I was a little kid, and they really wanted to read it, so..." Wander smiled, putting the book in his lap. "You know, I heard that the author of this book had a contest with another author, one that lived here. I think his books were called 'The Chronicles of Corona', maybe?" His smile became a little sad. "I've always wanted to read them, and I was hoping that they would be here, but I've looked high and low through this library, and I can't seem to find them."

"Oh, those. Yeah, we used to have those a long time ago, but they went missing when I was a kid." She shrugged. "I've tried to get some new copies, but unfortunately they're pretty rare nowadays."

Wander sighed. "I figured. Oh well. I guess some things just aren't meant to be."

Tuesday frowned, then grinned. "Hey! You know who might have a copy? My brother! Yeah, he loved those books when we were kids! Hey, Thatcher! Come over aaaaaaand he's gone." Tuesday muttered as she looked back at the empty doorway. "Figures."

Wander smiled sadly, then turned back to the book, returning to the adventures of Milton Miggins and the daryans.

Wander hummed to himself as he got into bed, scootching beneath the cover and pulling the book from his nightstand. It had become a bit of a habit since he'd first discovered the castle library during his first week of his stay in the Capital. Of course, he had only managed to read about half of one book, but then again, _Ceax Désolies _wasn't called 'The Doorstop' for no reason. There was also the fact that the book was written in a rather old style of Morterian, and Wander was pretty proud of the fact that, despite not being extremely familiar with the language, he'd gotten this far in one of the society's most famous novels.

He was right at the beginning of the final book of the 'Nourine' section, when there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, that must be Sylvia!" Wander said to himself, getting out of bed. "Coming, Syl!" He called happily, getting out of bed and strolling towards to his bedroom door.

"Hey, Syl, how was your-" Wander started, trailing off when he saw that there was no one there. He frowned, taking a step forward into the hall in order to see if someone was in the hallway. He hissed in pain when his foot collided with something. As he held his foot off the ground, he looked down, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw what he had hit his foot on.

"What...?"

The prince bent over, picking up the book that he had stubbed his toe on. There, right on the cover, were the words, 'The Chronicles of Corona: The Tiger, the Sorceress, and the Wardrobe'.

"What in the world...?" Curious, the orange Star Nomad opened the book, a smile playing upon his lips.

In red, faded letters that looked like a child's handwriting, were the words: 'This book belongs to Thatcher Solomon Gramaire Visigoth, future ruler of the Morterian Empire'.

"Well, it looks like Tuesday wasn't kidding when she said that he loved these books."

It was perhaps a week later that Wander found the time to return the book to its rightful owner.

He didn't know why he had this strange, nervous feeling in his gut.

Perhaps it was because the last time that he had spoken to his intended, the man had run off without even saying a word to him?

Wander swallowed, his fist trembling slightly as it approached the door, hesitating just before it reached the cold, painted wood of the king-to-be's bedroom door. He took one last deep breath, then raised his fist again, and finally knocked.

He heard a slight sigh inside, followed by what sounded like cloth rustling and then footsteps.

"Tuesday, this better be important," A gruff voice stated sternly as the door opened. "I was in the middle... of... something..." He trailed off as he saw who was standing at the door.

"Hello, Thatcher." Wander started as he smiled up at his betrothed. "I just..." He fidgeted slightly, gripping the book a bit too tightly. "I wanted to return the book that you lent me. Don't try to tell me it... it isn't yours, because I saw that you wrote your name in it. So..." He held the book out. "Here. It... It was really good, thank you."

Thatcher didn't move an inch for what felt like an eternity, simply staring at Wander from beneath his hood. After a moment, the king-to-be took it from the other prince's hands, making no attempt to speak to him.

After another, very awkward pause, the orange prince cleared his throat nervously. "Well, ah... guess... guess I'll just be going then."

Wander hardly got two feet away before he was stopped.

"W... Wait!"

The orange prince's eyes widened. He spun around, staring at his intended.

"Uh, yes?"

The other hesitated briefly. "I... the other books."

Wander blinked, confused. "What?"

"I, um... there are other books in the series."

"I... I know that. What about them?"

Another pause. "W... Would you like to borrow the next one?"

The orange prince stared at his betrothed for a moment, then smiled. "I'd love to!"

In an instant, the other prince dove back into his bedroom, rustling around and emerging a moment later, this time with a different book. Wander smiled warmly at him, walking over and taking the book from Thatcher's hands.

"Thank you, Thatcher! I'll get it back to you as soon as I finish it!" Wander promised happily, practically bouncing down the hallway as he went.

Thatcher smiled despite himself as Wander turned the corner and disappeared, an odd, warm sensation blooming inside of his chest.

"Huh. Looks like conversation comes before babies after all."

Thatcher nearly jumped, whirling around. Tuesday leaned against the wall, a smug smirk on her face.

"Will- Will you quit that?! Quit... Quit standing places and- and looking at me with that annoying knowing smirk on your face!"

"Hmm... let me think... No."

Thatcher groaned, covering his face with his hand. "What do you _want?!"_

"A castle made entirely of chocolate."

"I meant from _me_, smartass."

"At the moment? Nothing. Can't I just pop in to see my beloved big brother every once in a while?"

Beneath the hood, Thatcher gave her a disbelieving look.

"What? I'm being entirely sincere here! You're such a cynic, Thatch!"

The stare continued.

Tuesday rolled her eyes, sighing in defeat. "Okay, fine, so maybe I wanted to try and get you to talk to Wander." She gestured at the now-empty hall. "But now I see that you could at least do that part on your own, so..."

Thatcher sighed, rolling his eyes. "Could you have _any _less faith in me?"

"I hate to tell you this, big bro, but so far you haven't given me much of a reason to have faith that you'll be able to get into anything close to a relationship with the guy before you have to meet him at the altar." She shrugged, walking away. "And even with this new development, your track record still sucks. I think I'll just have to keep my eye on you for a little while longer."

"Wh- HEY! Don't treat me like a child!"


	5. Control

Over the course of the next few weeks, the two princes began to see each other on an almost daily basis, mostly to speak about the books that Wander borrowed from Thatcher. Sure, it wasn't exactly exchanging life stories, but in truth Wander was more than a little glad that the other prince had started to speak to him at all. He had worried that his intended would never speak to him, that he'd spend the rest of his life living with a man who would never speak a single word to him.

It was more than a little silly, in retrospect. Here he'd thought that Thatcher was some sort of cold, heartless man, and... okay, yeah, he still didn't know all that much about the guy, but even with what little he did know he could tell that his first impression hadn't been accurate. From what he could tell, Thatcher was a quiet, smart man, one who had the potential to be quite kind to others when he wanted to be, and with each meeting, the other prince became more open, a little more animated in the way he spoke and did things, a little... well, a little bit friendlier.

And yet... and yet Wander still felt like the other prince was trying to keep away from him, like he was holding something back.

Which, in all fairness, was true. Wander still had never seen his intended's face; in all of their interactions, the other prince had kept his face hidden beneath that red cloak, his face masked by darkness. There were often times when Wander wondered if he'd ever get to see the face of the man he'd be spending the rest of his life with.

Wander shook his head as he walked down the hall, determined not to focus on that unsettling thought and instead put his thoughts towards his upcoming meeting with Thatcher. He started smiling as he headed into the library, where the two of them always met.

His smile dropped when he saw that the table where the two them always sat was completely empty. Perhaps it wouldn't have seemed as big of a deal to anyone else, or even if Wander was expecting anyone else, but...

Thatcher had always arrived at the library before Wander had.

The orange prince swallowed, walking over to the table and taking a seat.

It was probably nothing. Thatcher probably just... he was just running late this time, that was all!

He'd come.

"So you waited there for an hour?"

"Uh-huh."

"And he never showed up?"

"Uh-huh." Wander repeated in the same miserable voice, leaning on the railing of the balcony that overlooked the training grounds.

"Yeesh," Sylvia said, wrapping her arm around her friend's shoulders sympathetically. "I'm sorry, buddy."

Wander sighed, leaning into his friend. "Thanks, Syl. I just... I don't know, maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but I really thought that we were finally getting somewhere in this... whatever it is that we have."

"Well, let's take a step back. Why does it bother you so much that Thatcher didn't show up?"

"Uh, because we've always met everyday- except for Mondays- for the past three weeks, and yet for some reason he doesn't show up today, a Friday?" The prince groaned, tugging at his braid. "And... and I'm worried that maybe I did something, or said something, that made him angry at me, and..." He sighed. "I don't know. I guess I... I don't want the person I'm going to marry to be a stranger."

Sylvia smiled sadly, giving her friend a hug. "Oh, Wander... Look, here's an idea: Why don't you go talk to him? I'm sure he's got a reason for not coming."

"Yeah..." Wander mumbled, perking up. "Yeah, you're right!" He ran inside, waving at his friend. "I'll see you later, Syl!"

The zbornak chuckled, waving back at him before walking back down the stairs to the grounds. "Alright, men! Break-time's over, back to work! And don't think I don't see you slacking, Bartowski!"

Wander swallowed a lump in his throat as he stood motionless in front of his intended's bedroom door, his fist frozen in midair.

Why was he so nervous, anyway? It was just Thatcher.

Thatcher, who may or may not have begun hating Wander for some reason that Wander couldn't for the life of him think of-

The orange prince shook his head, pushing that thought out of his mind. Taking a deep breath, Wander knocked on the door.

"Thatcher?"

No response from the other side of the door. Wander hesitated briefly, then spoke again.

"Um, it's... it's me. Wander, I mean. Although, I guess you probably already knew that, I can't imagine that a lot of people sound like me..." Wander laughed nervously, tugging once more at his braid.

Still nothing.

"H-Hey, um... I just... Just wanted to make sure that everything was alright, um, cause, cause you didn't show up at the library today... I mean, I don't mind that you didn't, it's okay, I just-"

"Go away."

Wander froze, his eyes wide with shock. "W... What?"

"I said, go. Away."

"I..." The Star Nomad's throat tightened, his heart sinking. "Wh... Why?"

"Gob, are you _thick?! _I don't want to see you, so just leave! Leave me alone!"

The prince's eyes filled with tears, gripping at his pants as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "O... Okay, then. I... won't bother you again, Thatcher."

With a heavy heart, Wander slowly walked away from the door, only looking back at the door once as tears slipped down his cheeks.

What had he done to make Thatcher hate him?

Not ten minutes later, there was another knock at Thatcher's door.

The king-to-be groaned. "I thought I told you to go away, Wander!"

"It's me, assface. Open up."

Thatcher froze, rising up from his bed slowly and walking over to the door. Pausing for a moment, he turned the knob and pulled the door open, coming face to face with a very angry-looking Tuesday.

"Tuesday, you _know _what-"

Tuesday never gave him the chance to finish that statement, instead pulling her arm back and socking her brother in the jaw.

The king-to-be cried out in pain, stumbling backwards and falling down.

"What was _that _for?!"

"Oh, you know _damn _well what that was for, asshole! I just saw your intended in tears! What the hell did you say to him?! And don't even try to convince me it wasn't your fault, cause I know better!"

Thatcher looked away, guilt overtaking him as he rubbed at his jaw. "... You know what today is. I can't... I don't want to hurt anyone."

Tuesday rolled her eyes, groaning. "I can't- Thatcher, that was _three _years ago! It's not gonna happen again!"

"And what if it does?!" The prince regent argued, standing up. "What if I lose control again, and he sees, huh? You really think that he's gonna want a freak like me?"

"You can't know that! And you won't lose control! In the past three years, you haven't lost control once. That's a pretty good sign that you've got it down."

"I- I don't want to risk hurting anyone!"

"Well, you're doing a pretty crappy job of it! You didn't see the look on his face, Thatcher!"

"It's not like I'm _trying _to hurt him! And I'll apologize tomorrow for yelling, but I won't let him get hurt! He can't know, Tuesday."

Tuesday groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh, my gob, don't you get it?! You're doing the exact same thing to Wander that you did to me for all those years! You think you're protecting him, but you're not!"

Thatcher scoffed, turning away. "I know what I'm doing, Tuesday. I think you should leave now."

"No, no, I'm not leaving! I'm not going to let you ruin this for yourself because... because you're scared! Thatcher, please, listen to me! Don't shut him out!"

"I'm not going to. Please go."

"But you _are _shutting him out, you moron! You don't know what it feels like to be told to go away, especially when it's from someone you care about!"

"Tuesday, please. That's enough." The prince regent said again, clenching his gloved fists.

"What do you have to lose by letting him in?! For once in your life, you could be happy!"

"Stop it. Stop it now."

"What's _wrong _with you?! Are you seriously so afraid of being happy that you're sabotaging any chance you have?!"

"I SAID ENOUGH!" Thatcher screamed as he turned around, his hands surrounded by electric energy burning bright green. Tuesday took a step back, shielding herself as it exploded in a bright flash, the windows and the lightbulbs shattering instantly.

Thatcher's anger drained out of him as he realized what he had done, glancing at his hand, then at his sister, his mouth hanging open slightly before clamping shut as he turned around.

Tuesday said nothing more in return, turning around and exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

Thatcher sighed, walking over and collapsing on the bed.

"Happy freaking birthday to me."

The next day, there were no trips to the library. In fact, neither of the princes made any attempt to seek out each other until it was nearly noon, at which point there was another knock at Thatcher's door, followed by the sound of footsteps running away.

The king-to-be didn't move for a moment, contemplating whether or not he actually cared enough to get the door. He sighed, getting up out of his chair and walking over to the door. He pulled it open, becoming confused when he saw that no one was there. Hesitantly, he took a step forward, stopping when he hit something with his foot. Thatcher looked down, his eyes widening when he saw the book at his feet. He bent over and picked it up, finding it to be the seventh and final book of the Chronicles of Corona series, "The End of the War", with an envelope stuck inside. The prince regent returned to his room, removing the envelope and setting the book down on his desk. Carefully, he opened the envelope, taking out the letter inside and reading it.

_Dear Thatcher,_

_Here's that book I borrowed. Thanks._

_Sincerely, _

_Wander_

_P.S. I'm sorry if I did something to make you mad. I'd just like to know what I did._

The king-to-be blinked, that feeling of guilt rising up in him once again.

"Shit." He hissed, tossing the letter aside and running out of his room, sprinting down the hall and skidding when he reached the door to his intended's room. Under any normal circumstances, he would have hesitated before knocking, or perhaps chicken out entirely, but he didn't have the time to be a baby about this.

He didn't want Wander to blame himself for his stupidity for another minute.

It was closer to banging his fist against the door than simply knocking, but in any case it definitely got Wander's attention, as the other prince opened the door only seconds after the king-to-be had knocked.

"Th-Thatcher!" Wander exclaimed, looking extremely surprised.

"I'm an idiot."

The orange prince blinked, his surprise turning to confusion. "I'm... I'm sorry, what?"

Thatcher bit back a frustrated groan. "I... Yesterday, I wasn't- I'm not- ugh!" The prince regent slapped a gloved hand to his forehead, making an upset sound in his throat. "Why is it so hard to talk to you?! W-Wait, no, forget I said that, what I mean is- I'm _sorry, _okay?!"

For a moment, all was silent, Wander being too stunned to answer and Thatcher being too afraid to say anything else.

"Um..." Wander started after a moment. "Just... just to be clear, what are you sorry for?"

"... For yelling at you yesterday. It... I wasn't mad at you. I was... there was another reason that I was mad, but it didn't have anything to do with you. You didn't deserve to be yelled at, and..." Thatcher sighed. "I'm really sorry."

Wander blinked, just staring at his intended for a moment.

Thatcher shuffled awkwardly, not looking at the other prince. "Uh... well, um, I've... I've said my piece, so... I'll just be going now-"

"Wait a minute."

Thatcher froze in place, his face going slack when he felt his intended take his hand. With some difficulty, the king-to-be looked down at Wander, who was smiling up at him.

"You know, we never did get the chance to talk about the last book," Wander started, still grasping his intended's hand. "And it just so happens to be lunchtime, so... how about we discuss it over a meal?"

Somehow, the king-to-be, who was sure that Wander could see the green flush on his face even under the shadow of the hood, managed to squeak out a weak 'okay'.

The orange prince grinned even more, gently pulling his intended in the direction of the kitchen, talking to him about what was for lunch, the weather, just about anything really, and even though he was still in an extremely flustered state, the prince regent somehow managed to take part in the conversation, becoming more and more relaxed as time went on.

As they ate lunch, the king-to-be realized that, though it pained him to admit it, his sister had been right: He _had _been trying to push Wander out, and on some level he had been aware that he was doing it.

He had lied before, when he said that the reason he was angry had nothing to do with Wander. In truth, it had quite a bit to do with the other prince.

It had been subtle at first, but as time went on and he spent more time with Wander, an odd sensation, one that reminded Thatcher of his heart hammering in his chest so long ago, had begun inside of him, becoming stronger and stronger every time he looked at his betrothed.

The feeling terrified him, made him feel sick, because... well, because it felt so much like the feeling he would get before losing control.

But here and now, with Wander talking so enthusiastically about the final book, he no longer had that feeling.

In fact, never before had he felt so at peace than he did in that moment.

For once in his life, Thatcher was happy.

In another place, one both far away and unimaginably close from where the two princes were dining, someone was watching.

"You see that, milady?" A young voice said, his words smooth and melodious. "Do you see it? How calm the Lonely King is?"

"I do indeed, dear one." An older, more feminine voice replied, her words reminiscent of a mother speaking to her young child. She stepped forward, grazing the window into the Mortal Realm. "I must say, I'm glad. Here I was worried that title would always ring true." She held out her palm, and the tinier male flew into it, looking up at her as she raised him to her eye level. "Dear Pippin, I do believe that we've found the other player in this game."

"Shall I bring him, milady?"

"Yes, dear one." She looked over at the window once more, focusing on the laughing orange prince. "Wander... what an adorable name."


	6. Ouranos, Gaia, and Nox, pt 1

"... see him! There he is-! Hey! Don't touch that, Pippin, you idiot!"

"Shut up, Merry! I know what I'm doing!"

Wander groaned a bit, opening his eyes slightly. Two blurred figures were leaning over him, coming in and out of his field of vision.

"Crap, he's fading! Work faster!"

"I'm working as fast as I can! There's not enough here to hold him!"

"Oh, Mother Gaea isn't going to be hap..."

Wander closed his eyes as the voices faded away, and once he opened them again, he found himself staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, still tucked into bed as he had been when he fell asleep the previous night.

"What an odd dream..." He mumbled to himself as he sat up, getting out of bed.

"Mother Gaia?" Tuesday asked with a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure where I heard it first," Wander replied as he pulled weeds out of the ground in the garden that he and Tuesday had started. "But I think I heard someone say it in a dream I had last night. Have you ever heard of it?"

"Hmm..." Tuesday pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "Well, I remember there being a deity called Gaia in the Old Days."

"The Old Days?"

"Yeah, like, when the Empire was just getting started. See, there were these three spirits, Ouranos, Gaia, and Nox. According to legend, these spirits ruled over the sky, the earth, and the underworld respectively. I don't really remember much else, but I think that Ouranos would shoot lightning when he was mad..." Tuesday shrugged. "People sort of forgot about them as the Empire expanded and cultures started mixing. I don't think a lot of people really know who they are."

"I see. Still, it sounds kind of interesting." Wander said, making a mental note to check the library for any stories about these characters. He pulled out another weed, and out of the dirt crawled an unbelievable amount of worms.

"Gah!" Tuesday shrieked, jumping back.

"What? It's just worms!"

"It's _gross _is what it is!"

The orange prince did eventually manage to find an old tome in the back of the library, in a dimly lit section that looked significantly older and much more worse-for-wear than the rest. Wander gently blew dust off of the cover, sneezing and coughing at the ensuing dust cloud. Once it settled and the nomad prince was able to stop sneezing, he opened the tome to its first page.

"_In the beginning, there was nothing. Then, there was a spark, and everything began. _

_From the light came Ouranos, the thunderous king, who, with a wave of his hand, brought color to the sky, raising the sun and making the clouds, and in no time at all, he'd created a castle for him to rule all from._

_Next came Gaia, Ouranos' beautiful and kind queen, who created the planet as she walked in the darkness, the earth coming to life beneath her feet. In time, she came upon the first Mortal being, a small mouse. She came to care for the creature, but, as all Mortal beings do, it soon died, and the queen wept, her tears creating the seas and rivers that carved through the lands and shaped the world._

_The final Immortal, as they came to be called, was Nox, the king of the underworld. However, Nox, unlike the other two, did not come from the light. No, Nox was formed from the darkness left over from the formation of the world, a being of chaos come to destroy the order of the world. _

_With the arrival of Nox, the idyllic life that Ouranos and Gaia led came to an end, for Nox, a trickster through and through, was jealous of the love that they shared. Here, the underworld king transformed into a gorgeous man, going to Gaia. He then attempted to seduce the queen, but the ever-faithful Gaia refused his advances, fighting him. Unfortunately, it was all for naught, as Ouranos came upon them just as the disguised Nox managed to force a kiss to the queen's lips. Thinking that the love of his life had betrayed him, the King fled back to his castle, raising the clouds so high that even the tallest mountains that Gaia had raised so she could go to meet him could not reach him. That night, for the first time, the sky went dark, night covering the world, enveloping it in total darkness save for the bright flashes of light as a storm began to rage on; however, in his grief, Ouranos let loose lightning that shone with a green tint, the same shade as his wife's green world below. In a fit of anger, the king threw a single bolt at the tallest trees in the Great Forest, and in an instant the whole area was covered in flames. By morning, the Great Forest was nothing but ash, and Gaia wept for the loss of both her home and her love, for she knew that the king would never again return to her side."_

Wander swallowed hard, turning the page. His eyes widened when he saw the remnants of the paper, jagged and uneven in such a way that it was obvious that it had been torn out.

"What in the world...?" Wander wondered aloud, flipping through the rest of the book, which, other than being slightly dusty, remained in perfect condition.

What could have been on that page that someone would have torn it out?

Suddenly, Wander found himself feeling drowsy, yawning despite himself.

_I'm sure no one would mind if I just... rested my eyes for a moment, _Wander thought as he pushed the book aside and laid his head down on the wooden table. His eyes slowly closed, and before he knew it, the orange prince had drifted off to sleep...

"... ing powder?! Pippin, Mother specifically said-"

"Aw, can it, Merry! Mother only said that we could only bring him if he was asleep! She didn't say we couldn't influence him into that state!"

"It was _implied_, you imbecile!"

Wander groaned lowly, stirring a little as he returned to consciousness.

"Hey, he's up!"

His head throbbing a bit, the orange prince sat up, rubbing his temple as he slowly opened his eyes. "Why did I think it would be a good idea to take a nap on a table?" He complained, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand.

"Ahem."

Wander blinked, looking up. Two nearly identical beings, one green and one blue, stared back at him with huge, slightly off-putting grins on their faces.

"... uh..."

"Welcome to the Immortal Realm, good sir!" The green one said, snapping his fingers. Out of nowhere, confetti rained from the sky, accompanied by what sounded like trumpets despite the fact that Wander could see no such instruments. "My name is Pippin, and this insufferable goody-goody is my brother Merry!"

"Hey!" The blue one, Merry, yelled, looking offended.

"Oh, shut up."

"... Uh..."

Merry shoved Pippin, then grinned at Wander. "I'm sure you're wondering, 'Where am I? Who are these two? How did I get here? Why is the dumb one doing all the talking?'"

"Hey!" Pippin shouted, shoving his brother.

"Shut up, Pippin!" Merry shouted back as he shoved his brother back. The two siblings quickly became embroiled in a shouting/shoving match, becoming so occupied by their fight that they didn't notice that Wander had done what any sane person would do and fled the scene until long after he had gone.

"Oh, crap."

"Why do they _always _run?"


	7. Ouranos, Gaia, and Nox, pt 2

In hindsight, Wander might have thought about how he was in a strange place that he had absolutely no knowledge of before running away from the strange creatures that had greeted him.

Even if they had been two of the oddest people that the orange prince had ever met.

Of course, being stuck with two wackos was probably a lot better than being completely lost in a place that Wander wasn't entirely sure followed the laws of physics. More than once the nomad had entered a door only to immediately end up on the other side of the hallway, and he couldn't even begin to count the number of doors that had lead him to the empty void of outer space or unspeakable horrors.

On a related note, he had never realized how horrifying even the cutest animals could be when they were the size of a planet.

But that wasn't important at this point. What _was _important was that the orange prince was starting to think that he'd never find his way back home, that he'd forever be wandering (no pun intended) these halls, lost until the end of the universe itself.

After roaming for what felt like hours, Wander finally leaned against a wall, every inch of him aching from exhaustion as he slid down to the floor.

He wondered if someone was looking for him yet. He could practically see Sylvia now, worrying herself to death as she ran around the castle trying to find him.

Wander swallowed hard, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. He hadn't felt so homesick since... since he had first left home and come to Morteria. This time, though, instead of missing his mothers and sisters (although he did miss them dearly), the people he thought of were those back at the castle. He thought of Tuesday, and the Queen, and... and Thatcher.

He really, really missed Thatcher. He missed their talks, even if Thatcher seemed to get embarrassed every other sentence. He missed holding Thatcher's hand, even if he couldn't see if he was happy or not when he looked over at him.

Wow. He really... he really hadn't realized how much he _liked _Thatcher, how much he'd come to like him during their time together.

It had sort of just... just happened, little by little, and it wasn't until just then that he had figured that out. He liked Thatcher.

He liked Thatcher, and... he needed to tell him.

If he ever figured out how to get back, of course.

Wander suddenly sat up straight, hearing a faint sound from far away. He focused on it, realizing that someone was singing. He stood, listening to the song and following the sound; as he walked, it became clearer and clearer, and Wander realized that the voice was female, a light, warm voice that somewhat reminded Wander of his mother's voice, made him remember what it felt like to be a child and to have her singing lullabies to he and his sisters.

After a short time, the orange prince finally found the source of the song, peering in from behind the doorway. A tall, willowy woman with green skin and flowing grass-colored locks was singing, her hands circling a pale blue ball of light. Little sprigs of green vines seemed to be growing out of it, twisting and sprouting leaves as they became longer and longer.

Suddenly, the woman stopped singing, waving her hand and making the light disappear.

"Hello, Wander."

The orange prince jumped, stumbling back with surprise.

"It's alright, dear, I'm not going to hurt you." The goddess stated warmly, turning to him with a smile on her face.

Wander hesitated for a moment, then, with an audible swallow, took a step into the room, feeling small and meek in the presence of the mystical woman. "How... How do you know my name?"

She smiled once more, walking over to Wander and kneeling down so that she was at his eye level. "I know the names of everyone who sets foot on my world, dear one. However, I've taken a bit of a, shall we say, _special _interest in you."

Wander stared at her, then took a step back. "U-Uh... I'm... I'm flattered, ma'am, but, um, I'm already supposed to be getting married to someone else... at some point..."

Gaia blinked, and then burst out laughing. "Oh, oh sweetheart, no, nothing like that! No, I'm still very much in love with my husband, thank you."

The nomad prince blinked. "Oh. Oh, um, sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-!"

"It's quite alright, Wander. I know that you've read the stories, after all."

"... So it's true then. About you and Ouranos... and Nox."

The smile that she gave him was much sadder this time, almost melancholy. "I'm afraid so." She stood up, walking over to the wall, where a portrait of a handsome, stern-looking man hung. She touched it lightly. "I've tried so many times over the years to speak to him, to explain what truly happened, but it seems... it seems that Nox got what he wanted after all." Her hand fell, and she looked back at Wander. "The story doesn't end there, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember that book you read right before you fell asleep?"

"The one about you and your husband and that Nox guy, right?"

"Yes. Did you notice anything strange about it?"

Wander thought back on it, trying to remember anything odd. "There... there was a page missing, right after the story of the world's creation. It... it looked like it was torn out."

"It was." Gaia walked over to the back wall, running her hand down it. In an instant, a circle appeared, color swirling in it. She motioned for him to come over, and Wander, though he was confused, did so. "I'll tell you now what was on that page, but unlike the storytellers whose tales have become legend, I'll tell you what truly happened."

"Wait, those stories weren't true?"

"Most of them are true at their core, but the details are off. You didn't think that I cried the seas and rivers into existence, did you? Even I cannot shed so many tears."

"Then... how did they form?"

Gaia shrugged. "I wished for there to be rain one day, and so there was rain, so much that the seas and the rivers formed." She snorted. "Of course, Menelaus seemed to think that it would be more womanly of me to cry. He was an idiot."

"Wait... did you... _you _told the storytellers how the world began?!"

Once again, the goddess shrugged. "I got bored. But in any case..." She waved her hand, and suddenly the swirling colors in the circle disappeared, replaced by an image of a young woman by a river. "The day that my husband fled my company was not the last day he spent on the ground. It was perhaps a thousand or so years ago when a young woman of the Mendari tribe- a tribe that was once known for its warrior women- caught my husband's eye from far above." She waved her hand once more, and the image closed in on the woman. She had long, chocolate-colored hair tied loosely in a ponytail, her skin the color of copper and her eyes dark. "Her name was Asteria." Suddenly, the woman looked up, her eyes wide and her face becoming flushed. The goddess waved her hand again, and suddenly there was the handsome man from the portrait again, dressed in simple garb and smiling. "She was young and naive, there was no way she could have realized that she was looking upon my husband."

Gaia sighed as the screen went black, then waved her hand again; this time, Asteria was in a forest, weeping. "I came upon her once, crying." Another woman walked in, this one with skin a shade paler and eyes the color of grass. "When I asked her what she was so upset about, she told me that her lover had left her, and she was with child. As she described her lover to me, I knew... I knew that it could only have been Ouranos." She frowned, her lips pursed in a thin line. "I wanted nothing more to than to be furious with her, to have enough anger in me to strike her dead." A sad smile appeared on her face. "And yet I could not be angry with her, for I knew that it was through no fault of her own that my husband had betrayed me. In that moment, I despised my husband, though in the next, I despised myself for not trying harder to to explain myself to him." She sighed. "It became clear to me as the years went by that it was not my fault that this had happened. Both I and my husband were victims of Nox's evil, and this young woman and the child she carried had become victims as well."

"What happened to them?"

Gaia smiled, waving her hand to summon the next image. This time, Asteria was lying in bed, holding a small white bundle. A tiny hand was reaching for her. "Asteria bore a son, whom she named Apollonius." Another wave. A young boy looking terrified as what appeared to be green lightning shooting out of his hand filled the circle. "However, it became apparent that Apollonius was more like his father than I had expected." Another wave. The image became one of Asteria holding her son, looking frightened. "I had stayed with them, to watch over my stepson, never revealing my true identity until Asteria discovered who the father of her child truly was. At first, she was terrified, thinking I was going to kill her and her son." Another wave. Gaia was speaking to Asteria in the form that she was in now, a kind smile on her face. "But I explained to her that I wished no ill on her or Apollonius; my only wish was to help them. And so I did. For the rest of their lives, I watched over them, and when they died, I watched over Helena, Apollonius' daughter, for she, like her father, had inherited some of my husband's power. I watched over their line for many, many years, keeping an eye on the one member who would inherit the power, and I have kept watching even now, when the line of Ouranos and Asteria has become intertwined with the line of the Royal Family."

"What?"

Gaia smiled, spreading her arms so that the circle would become larger. The image became focused on a nursery, where a baby, perhaps six months old, was crying in a crib, holding onto the bars and hollering.

"Does... does that baby have... you know? That power?"

Gaia smiled. "No, she does not."

"She?" Wander blinked. "Oh! That's... that's Tuesday, isn't it?"

"In a sense, yes. However, when you know what you are about to know, I suggest that you find a way to ask her about it."

"What?"

Gaia shushed him, pointing to the screen, where the door to nursery had opened and a young boy, who was perhaps four years old, not to mention having bright green eyes and the curliest brown hair Wander had ever seen, was walking in.

"Timothy, it's late..." The little boy complained as he approached the crib. "You gotta go to sleep, or Daddy will be all cranky."

"Timothy?"

Gaia shushed him again. The baby, Timothy, was still crying, making the other boy groan.

"Timothy, I need sleep, and you need sleep, and Daddy needs sleep, and Momma needs sleep- everybody's gotta sleep, and they can't if you keep crying."

The baby hiccuped, then returned to bawling. The other boy pursed his lips as if in deep thought, then grinned. "Hey! I've got an idea!" He took a step back, holding his arms out. "Hey, Timmy! Watch this!" The little boy said as waved his arms.

"What's he-?"

Another shushing. On screen, the boy took a deep breath, holding one hand out and running the other in a circular motion above it. Slowly, a green, crackling ball of light formed, becoming bigger and bigger. When it was around the size of a grapefruit, the boy jerked his hands outward, and the little ball became a rabbit, one that crackled as it hopped around the baby's head. Timothy giggled, bouncing up and down.

"Cool, huh?" The older boy said with a grin. "Wanna see me make a Zbornak?"

Before he could create the creature, however, the door opened again, making the baby's brother jump and the rabbit disappear.

"Thatcher Solomon Gramaire Visigoth!" A deep, angry-sounding voice bellowed. The image turned to a man with chocolate-colored hair and a glare marring his features, one that resembled the boys somewhat.

Wander's eyes widened. "Wait, _Thatcher_?"

"Dad!" Thatcher squeaked, looking both ashamed and frightened. Timothy began to cry again, reaching for his brother.

"What do you think you're doing?! Using your powers around the baby!"

"I was just trying to make him happy!"

"And what if that- that _thing _you made had hit him! You could have _killed_ your own brother!"

Thatcher's eyes were wide as the king grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the nursery and pushing him towards a Watchdog. "Peepers, return my son to his room, then fetch the nanny for Timothy. Alert the staff that my eldest son is to be watched at all times, especially when he's around his brother or..." Thatcher's father grimaced as if tasting something unpleasant. "That _mother _of his; I don't want her teaching him anything about that power of his."

"What?! Dad, that's not fair!"

"Oh? Is it _fair _that my son is a cursed _monster? _That I have to worry about him killing everyone?!" He turned away. "You're lucky that I still allow you as much freedom as I do. If it weren't for your grandmother, I would have locked you away long ago." He snorted derisively. "Your brother is normal, at the very least. I doubt I could stand if both of my children were such beasts."

Thatcher looked up at his father, tears rolling down his cheeks. He turned away, sobbing quietly to himself as he walked down the hall.

"I should have had you killed the moment you were born," His father muttered as he walked out of earshot. Thatcher froze, his lips trembling for a moment before he collapsed to the floor, heartbreaking sobs ripping out of his tiny, shaking body.

Peepers glared back at where the king had been standing before, then dropped to his knees, placing a hand on the tiny prince's shoulder. "I'm sorry, buddy."

The little prince looked up at the guard, his eyes still full of tears. "P-Peepers... a-am I really a monster?" He whispered through his tears, looking at his hands.

"No, no, of course not!" Peepers said quickly, hugging the young prince. "You're not a monster, Thatcher, don't listen to him!"

"B-But... but what if I hurt someone? H-He's right, I could've-!"

"Hey. Now you listen to me, kid. I know that you love that little boy in there, there's no way you'd _ever _hurt him on purpose. And this... thing, this power you have, it doesn't make you any less of a person. That little trick you did in there, with the rabbit, that's something _special. _You've got a gift, Thatcher." Peepers pulled the boy to his feet. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Thatcher's lip trembled, and he started crying again as he lunged at Peepers, nearly knocking the diminutive Watchdog off his feet.

"Oof! Easy there, Your Highness!" Peepers said with a chuckle, patting the boy on the back. Thatcher released him from the hug, but kept his grip on the guard's hand.

"Okay. Now, do you want me to take you back to your room?"

The little prince shook his head.

"... Do you wanna go see your mom?"

Thatcher nodded, wiping at his eyes and sniffling.

"Okay, I'll drop you off at your mom's room."

"B-But D-Daddy said I can't see her if there isn't anyone else there!"

"What King Polonius doesn't know won't hurt him."

The image went dark, and Gaia looked at Wander, her face neutral. Wander sniffed, wiping a tear from his own eyes.

"H... How... How could someone treat their own child like that?"

Gaia looked away, her eyes sad. "Even one as old and as knowledgeable as I cannot answer that, Wander. But I can tell you this: What Polonius said has never left Thatcher's mind. From the time he was a young child, he has feared that he is a monster. Even now, years after Polonius' passing, he cannot forget it." She sighed quietly. "More than that, he believes it to be true."

"What?!" Wander yelled, his eyes wide with shock. "How- How can he think that?! It's not true!"

Again, Gaia sighed. "Oh, dear, sweet Wander... in a perfect world, he may be able to see that himself." She smiled at him. "But... but perhaps you can help him see that."

Wander looked at her, confused. "What do you-?"

Suddenly, there was a crash at the door. Both the prince and the goddess turned, the former surprised and the latter annoyed when they saw Merry and Pippin lying in a heap.

"Oh, it's you two." Gaia stated, sounding irritated.

"Mother Gaia!" The two said simultaneously, their voices nervous and pitchy.

"Ma'am! W-We're so sorry, but-" Merry started before Pippin shoved him.

"This moron scared Wander off, and-"

"Hey! No, this idiot scared Wander off, and now we can't find-!"

Gaia sighed as the boys started to fight. "Every single time I tell them to do something..."

"Is it always like this?"

"Unfortunately." Gaia answered in a defeated toned, kneeling down to Wander's height again. "I have much more to tell you, my dear, but I'm afraid we are out of time. We will meet again soon."

"What do you-?"

Gaia tapped Wander on the forehead, and everything went black. When he awoke again, he was back in the library, a shadow covering most of the room.

"How long was I... Oh, nevermind!" Wander said to himself as he got up, running out of the library. The minute he did so, though, he (quite literally) ran into his intended, knocking him over.

"Wander!" Thatcher exclaimed, slightly irritated. "Geez, have you been in there all day? I've been looking-!"

Wander cut him off, wrapping his arms around the king-to-be's neck. "You're a good person, Thatcher."

Beneath his hood, the king-to-be blinked, then flushed madly. "Uh... what?"

Wander released him from the hug, smiling at him. "I just... I don't want you to think that you aren't good enough, or think bad things about yourself, 'cause..." He flushed a little, but kept smiling. "I really like you, you know?"

Thatcher stared at him blankly for a moment, then blushed even harder. "I... uh... you..." He swallowed, then, slowly, cautiously, nervously took Wander's hand. "I, um, uh... I really... I like you too."

Wander grinned, hugging his intended again. After a moment, Thatcher hugged him back, wondering just how in the world he managed to be so lucky.


	8. Something Wicked This Way Comes

"Captain?"

Peepers looked up at the door to his office, smiling (as much as a Watchdog _can _smile, anyway) at the young woman in the doorway.

"Ah, Iridessa! What can I do you for?"

The female Watchdog pointed at the clock, which had its big and little hands on the nine. "I thought you went home hours ago."

Peepers sighed, shuffling the papers on his desk. "Oh, I must have lost track of time while I was filing some reports... I'll be done soon, so you can just leave the key and I'll lock up."

Iridessa remained at the door, giving the captain a questioning look. "Uh-huh... Those reports wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain young private, would they?"

The captain let out a strangled noise. "I- You- it's-" Peepers spluttered uselessly for a moment, then sighed, rubbing his lower eyelid tiredly. "He breaks _everything _he touches, he's too enthusiastic for his own good, and yesterday he accidentally shot his own father in the foot! They literally sent me the _worst _trainee in the lot!"

"You mean figuratively."

"No, I mean literally. He's at the bottom of his class." His eye narrowed. "He's worse than the old man with cataracts, for Glorn's sake!"

The female Watchdog winced. "Yikes."

"You're telling me." Peepers sighed, resting his head in his hands. "Why do I even bother trying?"

"... Maybe it's because he reminds you of a certain overzealous guard for the Queen?"

Peepers' head snapped up, his eye wide with shock. "Wh- You are not _nearly _old enough to remember that!"

"Maybe not... But your brother certainly is!" Iridessa replied with a laugh.

The captain sighed, rolling his eye. "I shouldn't be surprised... That father of yours is too talkative for his own good."

Iridessa laughed again. "Goodnight, Uncle Cornelius!" She called as she walked away.

"That's Captain Peepers to you, Commander!" He scolded half-heartedly, earning another chuckle from the younger Watchdog.

Peepers sighed once more, turning back to his paperwork. However, before he could even put pen back to paper, the window behind him suddenly burst open, the abrupt gust of wind slapping Peepers in back of the head and scattering his papers all over the floor.

"Great," Peepers grumbled as he got out of his chair, fighting against the wind as he struggled to close the window, finally slamming it firmly shut and putting the rusty latch in its place.

"I keep telling them to replace that stupid thing, but do they listen to me? Nooo!" Peepers complained to himself as he gathered up his paperwork, standing and stretching his back when he had them.

"I'm getting too old for this shit." He muttered, turning back to his desk.

"Aw, I don't know about that," a voice that made the captain freeze in shock said. "I mean, sure, you're closer to fifty than forty, but you're still pretty spry for someone your age!"

Peepers gasped in pain, the sudden jabbing sensation in his thumbs making him drop his paperwork again. He turned his hands over, tiny rivulets of blood dripping down the sides of his thumbs.

"No..." He whispered, his voice full of terror. The blood dripping off his thumbs suddenly started to float, flying past the captain and hovering over the rug, which had started to glow. Abruptly, the rug was thrown towards the door, revealing the long-forgotten pattern drawn on the hardwood floor below. The blood fell onto the pattern with soft splashes, and the pattern lit up like a tree struck by white-hot lightning. Peepers stumbled back, gripping his desk in sheer terror.

With a bright flash, the flames went out, and where they had burned stood a tall man with deathly pale skin and semi-neatly combed hair, dressed all in monochrome save for the red satin sash on his black silk hat and the crimson handkerchief stuffed in his pocket. He grinned at the captain as if the Watchdog was some sort of dancing animal, his teeth sharp and white. His forked tail swished, then stilled.

"Sorry to drop in like this, but I've some rather urgent news to discuss with you." The man said as he walked towards the Watchdog.

His hands shaking with fright, the captain drew forth his sword, pointing at the man's chest. "S... Stay... Stay back, demon!"

The man looked down at the blade, then rolled his eyes. "Really?" He asked, snapping his fingers. In an instant, the blade turned into dust.

Peepers stared at the handle, then looked back up at the other man, swallowing audibly.

"I admire how fast you can react, my monocular friend, but in case you have forgotten, you can't kill me for two reasons. One, I'm immortal, and two, _I OWN YOU." _ The taller man's body burst into flame as he roared the last three words, making Peepers shriek in terror. "_YOUR SOUL IS MINE TO COMMAND. IF I WISH IT, I CAN FORCE YOU TO KILL YOURSELF. I CAN FORCE YOU TO SLAUGHTER EVERYONE YOU HOLD DEAREST TO YOU. DO. NOT. CROSS ME."_

The captain whimpered as the other man took a step back, turning away from Peepers. "I... I don't... I beg of you, please, don't make me kill anyone again!"

The other man clicked his tongue. "I'm disappointed, Peepers. You really think that the only reason I'd call upon you is if I wanted someone dead? Admittedly, you have impressive skill at it, but it's not the only reason I'd call upon you." The man disappeared from Peepers' sight, only to reappear on the sofa.

Naked.

"Ack!" Peepers recoiled, shielding his eye with his hands.

"Perhaps I've come for a, oh, what do the kids call it now, a... butt visit?"

"Booty call." Peepers muttered, determined not to look at the nude demon.

"Right, one of those! And 'cause I like ya, I won't ask why you know that!"

"Please put your clothes back on."

The demon frowned, then grinned as he sat up. "Riiiight, you've only got eye for that fugitive orca-guy you met while you were a prison guard!"

The captain flushed, glancing at the still-naked man quickly before looking away. "I-I do not! I mean, okay, he's kind of cute, but-!"

The demon chuckled as he disappeared again, reappearing (fully clothed, thankfully) on the other side of the room, inspecting one of Peepers' service awards. "Tell me, captain, am I fair in my deals?"

Peepers blinked, looking at the demon with confusion. "Huh?"

"I admit, most people don't associate the spirit of Chaos with a fair deal." The demon mused as he plucked the glass ball out of its golden perch, rolling it around in his hands. "And with a name like Nox, nobody's gonna trust you! I mean, come on!"

Peepers stared at him, completely baffled. "I'm... I'm not really sure what you mean by-!"

"But I think I'm pretty fair. An eye for an eye," A disembodied eye floated by the monocular captain, making him jump, "A tooth for a tooth, a life for a life..." He grinned slyly at Peepers. "Or in your case, selling me your soul in exchange for someone dying painfully."

Peepers looked down, shame settling in his throat. "I... That was a long time ago, I was young and-"

Suddenly, Nox appeared in front of him. "Dude, I hate to be the bearer of bad news- well, not really- but it was six years ago. You were _forty. _I think that makes it a little difficult to use the 'young and idiotic' excuse."

Peepers swallowed, staring at his feet. Nox chuckled humorlessly, taking a step towards the center of the room.

"But see, you and I both know that I kept up my end of the deal. In fact, I always keep my end of the deal. So... why is it that I've been cheated?"

Peepers looked up, his eye wide. "Cheated?" His heart sank. "You... I... don't know what you mean."

Nox clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Oh, come on, Peepers, you know what I mean."

Peepers refused to budge, and Nox sighed, feigning defeat.

"Alright, but you forced my hand, Cap." With a wave of his hand, two figures appeared in the center of the room, and Peepers felt sick.

Thatcher, young, with his curly hair and ornate outfit, crying as he held his sister.

Tuesday, in his arms, pale and still, blood dripping onto the ground.

It was like it was happening all over again.

"My life!" He heard the prince cry, his voice full of pain and yet still warm. "'A life for a life'... that's your price, isn't it?! I'll give you my life, so save hers!"

"Stop it." Peepers whispered, his eye starting to fill with tears.

The princess was covered in a pale glowing light, and when it faded, she stirred, her eyes opening.

"Thatcher...?" Tuesday whispered.

The prince smiled at her, his eyes full of tears. Behind him, a dark figure approached, a sword in his hand.

"Turn it off!" Peepers pleaded. "Turn it off!"

The demon simply looked at him, his expression unreadable. The dark figure raised the sword, aiming it at Thatcher's back.

"No!" The captain screamed, lunging forward.

But, as always, he was too late. The image faded just as Thatcher fell to the ground, Tuesday screaming as she was covered in her brother's blood.

Peepers fell to the ground, sobbing, the pain of the memory overtaking him once again.

He couldn't protect them. Even after all he'd gone through, after everything he'd done, he could never protect them.

Nox sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he strolled into the center of the room.

"I hope _that _jogged your memory, Peeps. Now, as you and I both know, the little prince should be in my realm, suffering for all eternity and all that jazz, and yet his soul roams around in those bones thanks to dear Gaia and her mark. For three years, I've been waiting patiently for something, something that has enough worth to the prince that it's equal to the worth of his life." The grin that Nox gave him made Peepers' stomach churn. "And finally I've found something." He snapped his fingers once again, and a familiar orange being appeared in front of him. "Or rather, _someone."_

Peepers' eye widened. "N... No... Not him, you can't take him!"

"Oh, but I can. And believe me, _I will."_

The captain stood, a fierce look in his eye. "I won't help you. Torture me, kill me, I don't care! That guy might be a weirdo, but for whatever reason he makes Thatcher happy! I won't help you do this!"

Nox chuckled, waving his hand in a circular motion. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Captain," he said as dark, semi-transparent beings seeped out of the walls, grabbing Peepers and forcing his eye open. "It seems that I've lead you to believe that you have a _choice _in the matter."

The last thing the captain saw before he slipped into unconsciousness was the demon king stepping towards him, his eyes glowing a dark crimson as his hands became clawed...

"Thatcher, I'm gonna count to ten, and if you're not out here when I get there, I'm going to put in some earplugs, turn the volume on my iDod all the way up, and start playing banjo music." Tuesday said, flicking over to her 'Emergency playlist'. "One... two... three... four..."

The door opened, Thatcher pulling on his cloak as he exited his bedroom. "Joke's on you, I _like _banjo music."

"What?! What normal person likes banjos?!"

Thatcher stared at her for a moment.

"... You're right, what was I thinking?" Tuesday stated, rolling her eyes.

Thatcher did the same, scoffing as he walked down the hall. "Why did you want me to get up, anyway?"

Tuesday groaned as she jogged after her brother. "Did you seriously forget? Today's the ball announcing your engagement to Wander!"

Thatcher nearly tripped over his own two feet in surprise. "O-Oh, um, right. That's... that's today."

Tuesday rolled her eyes. "You _did _forget, didn't you? Why am I not surprised?"

The king-to-be grimaced. "Give me a break! I've got a lot of stuff on my mind!"

"Oh, really? And how much of that 'stuff' pertains to an adorable orange prince?"

Thatcher flushed. "I-I think about other stuff besides Wander, you know!" He argued defensively, crossing his arms.

"Like what?"

"The state of the economy. Intergalactic relations. Kingly stuff."

Tuesday simply rolled her eyes. "Riiiiight."

As they passed through the halls, there was a cry from behind a nearby door, making the siblings pause.

"Hold still, Your Highness!" A man chastised.

"It hurts!" Another man, whom Thatcher immediately recognized as Wander, complained.

"It'll be over soon enough, so please just hold still." Another voice, this time a woman's voice, replied.

"I'm sorry- ow!"

At the second cry of pain, Thatcher ran over and opened the door, making it slam against the wall. The three inhabitants of the room, one being Wander and the other two being a hairstylist and a seamstress, all jumped, the hairstylist losing his grip on Wander's braid, which he had been wrapping around his head, and it fell, hanging off of the back of the nomad's head.

"Oh, great," The stylist complained with a sigh, "Now I have to start all over again!"

"In the future, Your Highness, it might be a good idea to knock." The seamstress suggested as she returned to stitching the nomad's robe.

Thatcher, however, wasn't listening to either of them. He was far too focused on his intended, who was dressed in traditional robes, long and white with a purple shawl that had a golden clasp, beautifully embroidered on the sleeves and the hem.

Wander looked... he looked simply _gorgeous._

Tuesday whistled appreciatively, elbowing her brother. "Holy cutie-patootie, Ratman!"

Wander flushed, grinning a little. "Oh, um... r... r-really?"

"Of course!" The princess replied, nodding enthusiastically. She elbowed her brother again. "Right, Thatcher?"

The prince regent jumped in surprise, flushing beneath his hood.

"I-I um, I, I mean, um..." Thatcher stuttered, pausing for a moment then swallowing hard. "Y... Yeah. Y-You, um, you... you look really nice, Wander."

The little grin on Wander's face became huge. "Well, then, um... Thank you, Thatcher!"

Thatcher flushed even more, looking away awkwardly.

Tuesday simply grinned. "Of course, he'd probably think you look good wearing nothing but a garbage bag." She teased as she walked out of the room, the hairstylist and the seamstress following her.

"Guh- WHY DO YOU SAY THESE THINGS?!" Thatcher shouted after her, earning only a chuckle in return. He sighed, turning back to Wander. "S... Sorry about that."

"It's alright, really." Wander said with a smile, twirling a strand of the loose hair hanging around his face around his finger shyly. "Do... you really think I'd look good in just about anything?"

"Wh-What?!" Thatcher exclaimed, blushing an even brighter green. "Y-You can't just ask me that!"

"Why not? We're getting married, aren't we? So, do you?"

"I... uh..." The king-to be swallowed nervously. "I, um..."

"I'm waiting." The orange prince prompted, perhaps a little too urgently.

Thatcher hesitated, considering his words. "I, um, uh... y-yes, you are, uh, very... pleasant-looking."

"'Pleasant-looking'." Wander quoted, raising an eyebrow.

"N-No, I mean attractive, desirable, stunningly beautiful, how about 'D'... All of the above?" Thatcher tried, babbling nervously.

To his relief, Wander started to laugh, his cheeks reddening. "Thank you." He replied as he wrapped his arms around Thatcher, who hugged him back gratefully.

Once again, the king-to-be wondered just how in all the galaxies in the universe he'd managed to be so lucky.

Wander pulled back, smiling at his intended for a moment before closing his eyes, tilting his chin towards Thatcher. The king-to-be stared at him for a moment, confused as to what the orange prince was trying to get him to do, then flushing so much that he looked like a lime when he realized Wander... Wander was...

He wanted Thatcher to kiss him.

_Okay, okay, just... just stay calm Thatcher. You can do this. Be cool. _Thatcher thought as he swallowed hard, gently grasping Wander's jaw with his hands. _Just... just lean in, and... _

Something inside Thatcher was pounding, rapidly pulsing like the beat of a heart in his ribcage. He leaned in, closer and closer, their lips nearly touching-

"Prince Wander, sir, your family has arrived-!" A Watchdog (what was his name? Westley?) started as he walked in, halting when he saw the king-to-be and his intended.

Thatcher flushed, quickly moving away from Wander. "Y-Yes, um, thank you, Private!"

Westley stared at them for a moment, then cleared his throat, looking away awkwardly. "I, uh... I'm, um, I'm just gonna... yeah..." He trailed off as he exited the room.

Neither prince spoke for a moment, rather pointedly not looking at each other.

"..Uh, um... Sorry." The king-to-be finally said, his face still bright green.

"It's okay." Wander reassured his betrothed, taking his hand and smiling at him, making Thatcher smile beneath his hood. Suddenly, Wander got on his tiptoes, pulling Thatcher closer and pecking him on the cheek, keeping his eyes closed the entire time that he had the hood pulled back.

_After all, you can't hurry love._

Wander smiled at his intended as he hopped off the stand he had been on, walking out of the room. After a second, the nomad poked his head back in.

"Coming, dear? You really should meet my family before we get married, you know."

Thatcher snapped out of the trance he had been in, blinking. "O-Oh, um, yeah, of... of course."

Wander smiled at him, then turned, walking right into Peepers.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Peepers! I didn't see you there!" The orange prince apologized.

The captain said nothing for a moment, simply staring at him with an unsettling expression with his one eye. "It's quite alright." He said after a moment. "It's my fault, in any case, as I wasn't watching where I was going. Besides that, who am I to tell a prince that he is in the wrong?"

Wander blinked. "Uh... okay?" He turned back to Thatcher, still a little disconcerted by Peepers' behavior. "Shall we get going?"

Thatcher stared at them for a moment before waving at Wander. "You... you go on without me, I want to talk to Peepers for a minute."

The nomad looked at his intended for a moment, then nodded cautiously. "A... Alright, I'll... I'll see you in a minute, then!"

Once Wander was out of earshot, the king-to-be looked back at the captain. "Are you feeling alright, Peepers?"

The captain looked back at him, an odd glint in his eye. "Never better. Why do you ask?"

"It's just... your voice, it sounds a little... off."

"Ah, don't worry about that. I just have a bit of a cold, that's all." He looked back at the end of the hall, where Wander had exited. "He's a lovely young man, isn't he?"

"Who, Wander?" Thatcher smiled a little despite himself. "I... I suppose so."

Peepers turned back to him, that strange look in his eye still there. "Yes, I'm sure he'll make you very... _happy." _The captain replied, putting an odd emphasis on the word _happy. _

Thatcher hesitated briefly. "Are... Are you sure that you're alright?"

Peepers simply chuckled lowly, walking past the king-to-be. "I'm fine. You ought to be getting to your betrothed, shouldn't you?"

The prince regent stared at him for a moment, then turned away, walking down the hall. "I suppose so. Al... Alright then, I'll see you later."

For a moment, Thatcher considered looking back at the captain, but decided against it, something that later he would come to regret.

Because if he had, he might have noticed the fact that "Peepers'" shadow was not of a Watchdog, but of a tall man with a top hat and a forked tail.


	9. Reunion

"Mom! Mother!" Wander cried out happily as he ran down the steps in front of the castle, making sure to keep the bottom of his nice, new robes off the ground.

Hope grinned hugely, running towards her son, enveloping him in a hug when they met halfway done the walkway from the landing area. "Hello, sweetheart!" She kissed him on the forehead, making Wander laugh. "Oh, sweet boy, I've missed you so!"

"I've missed you too, Mom." Wander replied when Hope released him from her embrace. He looked over at his mother, grinning. "And you as well, Mother."

Although the queen said nothing, the look in her eyes told Wander that she had missed him as much as he had missed her.

"What are we, chopped liver?"

The prince looked behind his parents, grinning again when he saw his sisters. "Corsair! Meander!" He called, running over and tackling them both in a group hug. "You guys came too?!"

Meander laughed. "Of course we did! We haven't seen you in months, do you really think we'd skip the chance to see you again?"

"Yep. Besides," Corsair's hand went to the scabbard at her side. "I'd like to meet this 'Prince Thatcher' guy."

Wander's eyebrow rose doubtfully. "And by 'meet', do you really mean 'threaten with grievous bodily harm if he ever hurts me'?"

"Oh, Wan-Wan..." Corsair said with a sweet smile, putting her hand on Wander's shoulder. "You know me too well."

Wander rolled his eyes, shrugging her hand off, trying to ignore the image of Corsair with her hair sticking up in all directions due to shock that his mind came up with. "First of all, I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Secondly, you have nothing to worry about, Thatcher's been nothing but a gentleman to me." _Well, he's _tried _anyway._

Corsair gave him a doubtful look. "Oh, _really?" _

"Yes, _really. _He's brought me flowers," _he couldn't have known that I'm allergic to certain kinds of pollen, _"Had very nice conversations with me," _Even if he gets too embarrassed to talk every other minute, _"He's even shared books with me!" _It doesn't matter that he dropped the first book off in front of my room then ran off, right? _"He's very nice to me." _Which is true. Even if he's a little awkward about it._

His eldest sister still looked like she had her doubts, but to Wander's immense relief she moved her hand away from her sword, crossing her arms. "Fine. No interrogation."

Wander sighed gratefully. "Thank you."

"Not with the sword, anyway." She muttered under her breath.

"I heard that!"

Thatcher swallowed hard, looking out over the front courtyard and wringing his hands nervously.

_Okay, Thatcher, you can do this. You're just meeting your future in-laws. No big deal. Just... Remember to be a gentleman. _

Thatcher straightened, taking a step into the light, squinting in pain from the sudden brightness and retreating into the shadows. _Ow. Okay, new plan: Wait for them here while remembering to be a gentleman._

Wander suddenly looked up at him, grinning and waving. Nervously, the prince regent waved back, smiling despite himself, something he seemed to do a lot around his intended.

The smaller prince ran towards him, grabbing one of his hands with both of his and pulling him into the light.

"Come on, come meet my family!" Wander urged him as he pulled him along.

"H-Hey, slow down!" The taller prince demanded, nearly tripping over loose stones in the path. Wander, however, didn't slow down, not until he accidentally dragged his intended into one of the light poles near the landing pad.

"Oh!" Wander exclaimed, letting go of Thatcher's hand. The prince regent stumbled back, touching where his head hit the pole gingerly.

"Ow."

"Are you alright?! I'm so sorry! I should have watched where I was going!"

"A-Ah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I've got a thick skull." Thatcher reassured him, gently knocking on his head. He winced, recoiling from his fist. "Ow."

Wander giggled, taking his intended's hand once again, leading him to his family.

"Mother, Mom, Meander, Corsair, this is Prince Thatcher Solomon Gramaire Visigoth, heir to the throne of the Morterian Empire, and my betrothed."

The queen, her consort, and the younger princess all curtsied politely. Corsair, however, simply glared at Thatcher, only bowing when Meander pushed her over.

Thatcher bowed in return. "It's... it's very nice to meet you, Your Majesties."

Hope smiled at him, stepping towards him and holding out her hand. "I'm glad to meet you as well, Your Highness."

The king-to-be swallowed nervously, hesitantly taking her hand and shaking it. "I... I hope that you'll enjoy your-!"

"Ow!" The consort cried out suddenly, pulling her hand back.

"Wh-What's wrong?!"

"O-Oh, nothing dear," Hope said apologetically, smiling up at the prince regent. "Just a little static shock, that's all."

Wander's eyes widened as he watched Thatcher draw his hand back, rubbing his left with his right in such a way that it seemed like he didn't even know he was doing it.

_It had to have been an accident, _he concluded, _I mean, there's no way he'd hurt my family on purpose... right?_

"Uh, um, s-sorry, uh, about that."

"Oh, it's fine, dear." The consort reassured him. "Now, why don't we go inside, and you can tell my wife and I all about yourself?" She asked, though her tone implied that she was demanding that they did so. As the orange woman grabbed his arm, Thatcher looked over at the Queen, who looked back at him with a carefully neutral look on her face.

The prince regent looked over at his intended as he was dragged inside, getting only a shrug and a mouthed "Sorry!" before his mother started asking him questions.

Wander turned back to his sisters. "So, what do you think of him so far?"

"... Little brother, I hate to tell you this, but you're marrying a huge dork." Corsair admitted after a moment, an apologetic look on her face.

"Corsair!" Meander scolded her, elbowing the older princess.

"What? It's the truth!"

Wander laughed, turning towards the castle. "Oh, don't worry, sis. I'm well aware of the fact that my intended's a little goofy."

"A little?"

Meander elbowed her again.

"Ow!"

"Up there, darling!"

There was a great, sudden gust inside the ballroom as King Dracor flapped his wings, flying up to the ceiling and hanging the end of a long, white ribbon on the chandelier in the center.

Tuesday gave him a thumbs up as she walked over to his wife, who was watching from a chair on the nearby balcony. "I can't thank you enough for helping us out with this, Demurra."

"Oh, happy to lend a hand, dear!" She sighed, rubbing her swollen stomach. "I just wish I could be a bit more helpful personally rather than just giving orders to Drake."

"Nonsense! You can hardly walk around anymore, I don't want you to overexert yourself!"

The queen smiled at her. "Thank you, Tuesday."

The princess smiled back at her, kneeling down and rubbing Demurra's stomach. "Do you guys know what you're having yet?"

"Mm. A boy." She sighed again, looking down at her stomach. "I wish he would come already. I already love him so much, and I know Drake does too." She grimaced. "Also, I _hate _how swollen my feet are. And it takes forever to get back up after I sit down!"

Tuesday laughed, standing back up. "Well, I still think it's worth it. After all, now people will call you the 'Mother of Dragons'!"

"Oh, hahaha. Never heard _that_ one before."

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

Demurra rolled her eyes, but smiled good-naturedly.

"Tuesday?"

The princess and the queen both looked over at the doorway, where Wander stood with an odd look on his face, two unfamiliar Star Nomads standing behind him, the orange one with a similar expression as Wander and the white one with a stern expression, their hand on the handle of their sword in its scabbard.

"Oh! Hello, Wander."

The prince gestured at the ballroom behind him with his thumb. "Uh, d'you guys know that there's a dragon on the ceiling, or...?"

"Oh, that's just my husband, dear."

Wander looked over at the woman in the chair, his eyes wide with confusion. "Wait, what?"

Demurra smiled at him. "Ah, where are my manners? I'm Queen Demurra of Taragonia. In there is my husband, King Dracor. I'd stand and curtsy, but I'm afraid doing either is rather difficult in my current state." She explained, glancing at her swollen stomach once more. "I'm guessing that you're Prince Wander, Thatcher's betrothed. Am I correct?"

"Oh, well, um, yes..." Wander bowed, quickly. "It's very nice to meet you, ma'am." He gestured to the two Star Nomads behind him. "These are my sisters, Meander and Corsair."

The orange woman curtsied, clearing her throat pointedly. She glared over at Corsair, who rolled her eyes, sighing overdramatically as she too curtsied.

Tuesday smiled, curtsying as well. "Princess Tuesday, at your service."

A sudden gust of wind blew behind them, and when they all looked back, Dracor had landed on the floor of the ballroom. "Demurra, Tuesday, anything else I can do for you- Oh!"

"Uh... hello." Wander said carefully, taking a step towards the dragon king.

The dragon bowed. "King Dracor of Taragonia, at your service."

Wander bowed in return. "Prince Wander, at yours." Hesitantly, the prince smiled, holding out his hand. "I've never met a dragon before."

The king stared at his hand. "I... I have no idea what you want me to do with that?"

"You're supposed to shake it."

"... Why?"

"Uh... to be polite, I guess. I've never really thought about it."

"Huh." Tentatively, the dragon king took Wander's hand, shaking both it and the prince a little too vigorously.

"Dear, stop shaking him." Demurra called when she saw Corsair's hand going back to her sword.

The king stopped, Wander stumbling a bit. "Oh, um, sorry."

Wander placed his hand on his head in an attempt to steady himself, shaking his head. "It's... It's fine..." He cleared his throat as he stabilized, smiling at the king.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat behind them, Wander smiling when he saw his intended.

"Thatcher!" Wander exclaimed happily, running over to the prince regent. "Glad to see that Mother and Mom didn't wear you out too badly."

"Well, your mother wasn't too bad. Of course, most of the time she just sort of... stared at me like she was trying to figure me out."

The orange prince laughed a bit. "Yeah, that sounds like Mother alright. And what about Mom?"

Thatcher didn't speak for a moment. "She... asked a lot of questions. Most of which I didn't know the answers to."

Wander laughed again, taking his intended's hand as his sisters walked over.

Demurra smiled at the scene, sighing as she shifted in her chair. She thought of how different Thatcher was now from that silent young prince she'd met at her (somewhat disastrous) wedding two years ago. Though he still wore that same red cloak, hiding his face in shadow, his demeanor had changed; he was more open, a little warmer, _happier. _

There was no doubt in her mind that she had the little orange prince to thank for the change in Thatcher. Even with his face hidden, Demurra could tell that he was happy to be with his intended, almost able to picture the silly, smitten grin that she was sure was on his face.

And what a face it was. She had been a bit surprised when, entirely by accident mind you, she and her husband had discovered the truth of the young prince's condition thanks to Brad attempting to crash their wedding and kidnap Demurra. She had handled that herself quite well, thank you very much, but somehow that fool had managed to escape.

It had been quite a sight to see, Brad cowering in a corner as the cloaked prince walked toward him threateningly.

"_This... This isn't possible! You're supposed to be dead, I saw the body!" Brad shouted, fear evident in his eyes._

"_Indeed you did." Thatcher had growled lowly, his hands awash in electric green energy as he walked towards the knight. "But I have a question for you, Starlight." He started, pausing a few inches away from Brad. "When did I ever claim to be _alive_?!" He roared as he took his hood off, the knight screaming in terror when he saw the skeleton's face. _

_Thatcher growled once more, lunging forward and grabbing the would-be "hero" by the front of his tunic._

"_Leave this quadrant and _never _return, do you understand? If you do..." The prince regent growled again, pulling his other arm back, his hand crackling with energy as he aimed right for the knight's hood._

_The "hero" whimpered, nodding fervently as fearful tears rolled down his cheeks. Thatcher growled once more as he straightened, dropping the knight. Brad scrambled to get up, grabbing the sword that Thatcher had flung away when he caught him and fleeing the castle._

_The king-to-be snorted derisively. "Pathetic."_

"_Your... Your highness?"_

_The young prince turned around, his green eyes wide with shock. "P-Princess Demurra! I- This is- uh-!" He swallowed hard. "I... I can't think of a good lie."_

_Demurra couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly the prince had gone from terrifying to terrified. "It's alright, Thatcher."_

_Behind her, her groom landed. "Demurra-!" He paused, blinking. "Huh. So that's what the cloak was for."_

The queen smiled at the memory, her husband coming over and nuzzling her gently with his head, placing the end of his tail on her stomach. "_Elskade," _he murmured into his wife's ear. She sighed contentedly, reaching up and rubbing his head.

"Look at them, _kjæret," _She whispered, motioning at the two princes. Wander was laughing about something Thatcher had said, still holding his hand. "A tale as old as time, isn't it?"

"The same could be said about you two." Tuesday said, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Oh, hush you." Demurra scolded half-heartedly, absent-mindedly scratching a spot behind her husband's ear. The dragon suddenly seized before going limp and falling to the floor.

"Oh, sorry, dear."

Dracor simply purred.


	10. Reveal

"... Presenting, His Highness, Prince Thatcher Solomon Gramaire Visigoth of the Morterian Empire, son of His Majesty, the late King Polonius Cronos Pontmercy Visigoth of the Morterian Empire, and his betrothed, His Highness, Prince Wander A... Astro..." The announcer squinted at the paper in his hands. "I'm sorry, how do you pronounce this?"

"'Astreir'." Wander whispered a bit loudly, causing an awkward chuckle to run through the crowd nearest to the stage.

The announcer nodded, turning back to the paper. "Prince Wander Astreir Coronan of the Star Nomad Empire, son of Her Majesty, Queen Anamaria Cassiopeia Coronan of the Star Nomad Empire!"

The crowd clapped politely as the announcer attempted to catch his breath, murmured whispers already spreading throughout.

Thatcher swallowed hard, his face flushing green beneath the shadow of his hood. He hated this part of the whole 'royalty' thing, this part where he was up on display to be judged by people he barely knew. He felt like he was some kind of mysterious specimen, strapped to a lab table for cold, unfeeling scientists to poke and prod at, to judge, to classify.

It was even worse now, since with one wrong move, they could see what he really was under the safety of his hood:

A freak.

An abomination.

A _monster._

Suddenly, the king-to-be felt his hand being squeezed, snapping him out of his fearful trance. He looked down, seeing his intended smiling comfortingly at him.

"You okay?" The shorter prince whispered, not wanting to draw attention to himself while his future mother-in-law made her welcoming speech.

Thatcher hesitated, glancing briefly over at the crowd. "I'll... I'll tell you later." He promised, keeping his voice down to a whisper.

Wander gave him an understanding smile, squeezing his betrothed's hand once more before turning back to the crowd, never once letting go of Thatcher's hand.

He was trying to comfort him, the prince regent realized after a moment. Thatcher smiled despite himself, feeling a sort of calmness spread throughout his body. Hesitantly, he pulled the Star Nomad a little closer to him, intertwining his fingers with Wander's.

"What's that for?" Wander whispered, making Thatcher flush with embarrassment.

"N-Nothing, I just... I, uh..." He swallowed hard, not looking at Wander. "I like holding your hand, okay?"

The other prince said nothing for a moment, then smiled. "I like holding your hand too."

"Guys, stop being so adorable, you're setting unrealistic expectations for arranged marriages!" Tuesday whispered teasingly from her place on the opposite side of Thatcher.

"Sh-Shut up!" Thatcher hissed, recoiling when he realized that he had said it loud enough for his mother to hear, making her stop her speech. She stared at him expectantly, making him flush with shame and his sister look away with a look of feigned innocence on her face.

"U-Uh... Sorry."

His mother cleared her throat, turning back to the crowd. "Well, I think I've kept you all long enough, as my dear son has so graciously informed me." The queen spread her arms, smiling genially at the crowd. "Come, then, and celebrate with us. Eat, drink, be merry!"

A great cheer rose from the crowd as the band began to play, the nobles of the quadrant all turning to each other, some to dance, some to chat, but all to do just as the queen had said: be merry.

Thatcher sighed in relief as the crowd's attention turned away from him, turning to face his intended.

"So, to answer your question, I-"

"Wander!" Tuesday called as she grabbed her brother's arm, tugging on it. "Can I borrow Thatcher for just a sec? I promise it'll be quick, then he's yours for the rest of the night!"

The prince regent rolled his eyes, turning to his sister with a sigh. "Tuesday, go-"

"Alright."

Thatcher blinked, surprised, looking at his intended. "Wait, what?"

"It's just for a minute, right?" Wander said with a shrug. "I don't see why not."

"But- but-!"

His sister grinned, tugging him along. "You heard him, Thatch! Thanks, Wander! We'll only be a minute!"

"But- but-!"

Wander smiled and waved at them, then turned to talk to a nobleman who had approached him.

_Traitor._

Thatcher glared at his sister as she closed the door to one of the sitting rooms. "What do you _want?"_

She exhaled loudly, pulling a wayward strand of her hair behind her hair. "So, uh, things with Wander are going pretty well, huh?"

The king-to-be blinked, confused. "Uh, well, yeah, I guess."

"That's great." Tuesday clapped her hands together, looking at her brother hopefully. "Have you told him yet?"

"About what?"

The Princess rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. "About the fact that you're not technically _alive, _duh."

Thatcher's face dropped, swallowing hard as he looked away nervously. "O-Oh. Oh, um, that... I, I uh, well, I mean-"

"You haven't." Tuesday concluded, her hopeful smile morphing into a disappointed frown.

"... Not yet, no."

Tuesday rolled her eyes, groaning. "Why not?"

"I-I'm waiting for the right time!"

"You're getting _married _in a _month! _This _is _the right time!"

The prince regent groaned. "I can't, okay?!"

"And why not?!"

"Because- Because I'm _scared, _alright?! I'm afraid that he'll scream, that he'll hate me, that- that he'll...!" He swallowed hard, looking down. "That he'll call me a _monster."_

Tuesday's eyes were wide, her hand over her mouth. "Oh, brother," she whispered, running over and embracing him. "Thatcher, why would think that he'd call you something like that?"

"Because... Well, look at me!" He shouted, pulling down his hood. "It's the truth, isn't it?!"

"No." She replied, her tone sure and strong. "No, it's not. If I know anything at all, it's that you are no monster, Thatcher. You are good, and gentle, and kind, no matter _how _you look. And if I know Wander like I think I do, he knows that you're a good person."

Thatcher looked down at her, his eyes watery. "How can you know that?"

"Because I've seen the way he looks at you. He cares about you so much, Thatcher, and I know you feel the same way about him. Trust me when I say that I don't think that there's anything in the entire universe that could scare him off at this point. You two belong together, anyone can see that."

"Really?"

"Of course. I mean, just look at the man you are now; before you met Wander, would you have gone and greeted the Queen and her family, much less put up with giving them a tour?"

"... No."

"And they wouldn't have asked, because you would have been so cold and off-putting that they'd have wanted as little to do with you as possible. You've changed, Thatcher." She smiled up at him, giving him another hug. "I'm so proud of you."

Thatcher smiled, hugging her back tightly. "Thank you." He whispered, his voice a little choked.

She laughed, letting go and looking at her brother. "Always."

He smiled. "I'm... I'm gonna tell him."

Tuesday's eyes widened. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Tonight, after the ball."

"Are... are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." Thatcher promised, pulling his hood back up. "You're right, we're getting married in a month. If there's a perfect time, then this is it."

Tuesday grinned, giving her brother another hug.

"It'll all turn out fine."

Later, they would find out how untrue that promise would be.

It might have been true, though, if only one of them had notice the irregular movements of the shadows on the wall, or how one of them rushed out the window...

Elsewhere in the castle, 'Peepers' was waiting, standing still in the dimly lit hall right outside the ballroom.

"I should think that such a mission should not take as long as it has." He murmured, glancing at the watch on his wrist.

_Let me out! Get out of me! OUT!_

'Peepers' rolled his eye, knocking on his head. "Quiet, you. I'll leave when I'm good and ready."

Suddenly, the shadows on the wall rushed down to the floor, moving to swirl in front of the floor. With a sigh, the 'captain' rose his hand, and with his permission given the darkness rose, forming into its true shape, a demon.

"My lord Nox," a deep, rumbling voice said, the creature bowing its head.

"Yes, yes, what is it? People will notice if I'm gone too long."

"The prince, sir, he plans to tell his intended of his true form. Tonight, as a matter of fact."

_WHAT?!_

The 'captain' gave off the impression of grinning evilly. "Tonight, you say?" He chuckled, spreading his arms. "Well, I see no reason why we shouldn't _help _him with that, now should we?"

_No! No, don't you dare! I... I repent! I repent my sins! Dear Gaia, forgive me so that I might be saved!_

Nox chuckled, approaching a mirror, where in the reflection Peepers was pounding on the glass. "Oh, Captain, my Captain... you're far too late for repentance."

"So, what did Tuesday want to talk to you about?"

"Hmm?" Thatcher murmured as he turned to his intended. "Ah, nothing, just... just some last minute planning about the, uh, the... orchestra's... selections."

Wander gave him an odd look, then looked over at the orchestra, which Tuesday was nowhere near.

"Ooooookay. Anyway, what was wrong on stage earlier?"

"Oh, um, I..." Thatcher drew back sheepishly. "I'm not very good with large crowds... especially if they're looking at me, with, with their judging eyes, and... Yeah."

Wander gave him an understanding look, squeezing his hand once more. "I see."

Thatcher smiled beneath his hood, feeling a little guilty, for though he hadn't lied to Wander, he still had not told him the whole truth, that the biggest reason he was nervous was what he hid beneath the hood of his cloak, the face without skin, the eyes that glowed dimly in their sockets.

It was a little funny. Three years ago, he'd sworn to himself that never again would he have to hide what he was.

And yet, here he was, a man who was to be married in a month and had yet to show his intended his face.

"Thatcher?"

The king-to-be blinked, losing his train of thought. "Uh, um, yes?"

Wander gestured towards the dance floor, where several couples were dancing, including Dracor and Demurra, although 'dancing' might have been pushing it in regards to those two; It was more like Dracor had picked up his very pregnant wife and was gently swaying.

"Would... Would you like to dance?"

Thatcher nearly fell out of his chair. "Uh- I, uh, I-I mean, um..." The king-to-be swallowed hard, wringing his hands anxiously. "I, I, um, that- that is, uh, I... I don't dance."

"O-Oh. Oh, well, that's alright, I suppose." Wander said, trying not to look or sound as disappointed as he felt.

"N-No, I, I mean, uh... what I mean is... is that... I don't know _how _to dance."

"Oh. _Oh._" Wander replied, a look of sudden understanding dawning on his face, smiling as he took his intended's hand and gently lead him towards the dance floor.

"Wh-What are you doing?"

"Well," Wander said as he took Thatcher's other hand, pulling him along, "I figure that the best way to learn, is just to do it, don't you think?"

"Wh- Wander there's _people_!" Thatcher hissed, flushing brightly beneath his hood.

"Oh, they won't mind." Wander smiled up at him sweetly, his eyes large and pleading. "Please?"

The prince regent hesitated, clenching his jaw tightly before letting out a defeated sigh. "Fine." He said finally.

The orange prince grinned, guiding his intended into the starting position. "Just follow my lead for now, alright?"

The king-to-be swallowed nervously, trying to keep his hands from shaking. "O-Okay."

Wander smiled at him again. "Okay, now when I step forward with my left foot, you step back with your right, and when I move my left back, you move your right forward, got it?"

"I... I think so..."

"Good. Now, we do this on a 3/4 count, so listen carefully. One, two, three, one, two, three..."

Though there were a few missteps (and toes stepped on), the pair managed to get into a rhythm, and in no time at all Thatcher had taken the lead, only occasionally having to look down at his feet.

After a while, Thatcher glanced over at the orchestra, eyes widening in surprise when he saw his sister whispering something to the conductor. She looked back at him, smiling and waving before walking back to stand with their mother.

_What is she up to?_

Suddenly, the orchestra began to play, and the prince regent had his answer. He flushed with both anger and embarrassment, mentally cursing his sister's notion of what "helping" meant.

_The love song from _La Bella et la Bêate. _Could she _be _anymore obvious?!_

"You okay, Thatcher?"

Thatcher snapped out of his angry inner tirade, looking down at his intended. "A-Ah, fine, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Wander didn't look at all convinced, but he seemed to decide against pressing the issue, instead glancing over at the stage, where the choir had started to sing. "Such a pretty song... I wonder what they're saying?"

Thatcher hesitated, considering for a moment telling him the lyrics, then deciding against it. "It's... it's just some old cheesy song."

"Oh, really? Well, I'd still love to know what it means."

Thatcher cleared his throat, unable to keep himself from smiling. _He's so cute._

"Thank you."

"Wh- Aw, crap, I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Wander giggled, grinning up at his intended. "I think you're pretty cute too."

The king-to-be flushed even more brightly, nearly stepping on his intended's feet again. "I-I, um, I, I mean, um- wait, what?"

Wander laughed. "I said that I think you're pretty cute too, Thatcher."

"Wh- N-No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

The prince regent bit back a humiliated groan, feeling even more guilty than before. Would Wander have said that had he known the truth?

If he saw what was hidden under the shadows of Thatcher's cloak, would he still find his intended attractive?

Thatcher swallowed hard, straightening slightly. "W... Wander?"

"Yes?"

"Can... Can I ask you something?"

"Of course!" Wander replied happily, smiling at his intended.

The prince regent clenched his jaw, hesitating nervously. "Say... say that, hypothetically, there was something that I had been keeping from you... something, um, something kind of big."

"Uh-huh..." Wander prompted, still smiling.

"If, um... if, in this _entirely _hypothetical scenario, let's say that I were to, um, tell you about this hypothetical thing... how would you react?"

Wander paused, thinking for a moment. "Hypothetically?"

"Y... Yeah."

"It depends."

Thatcher blinked, confused. "On what?"

"Well, in this hypothetical scenario, is this thing you've been keeping from me something bad?"

"I... I guess..."

"Did you murder someone? Or a lot of someones?"

"N-No!"

"Did you brutally rape someone?"

"Wh- Of course not!"

"Did you poison a town's water supply, burn their crops and deliver a plague unto their houses?"

"No, no of course not! I... I don't even know _how _I would go about delivering a plague..."

The orange prince laughed. "Well, then, in this hypothetical scenario, I think I'd understand."

Thatcher's eyes widened in surprise. "R... Really?"

"Of course."

"You wouldn't... you wouldn't leave?"

"No, I wouldn't leave." His smile diminished a bit. "I... I won't lie to you, when we first met, I... I might have, but I'd have taken just any excuse to get out of getting married."

The king-to-be's face fell. "Oh, um... I... I made that bad of an impression, huh?"

"Hm? Oh! No, no, it didn't have anything to do with you specifically! I just... I really didn't want to get married, you know? I wanted to, I don't know, travel, or something, I-I didn't really have it all that well-planned out."

"Ah." Carefully, the larger prince spun his partner around. "And might I ask what changed?"

Wander grinned sheepishly. "I met you. I don't really think I'd like being married to anyone else, but... I think I could stand spending the rest of my with you."

Thatcher chuckled despite himself as the song ended. "Then... then, um, after the ball, would... would you meet me in the garden?"

The orange prince gave him a knowing look. "What happened to 'hypothetical'?"

"It... wasn't as hypothetical a situation as I first suggested?"

To Thatcher's relief, the shorter prince laughed, taking his intended's hand. "Of course I'll meet you."

"Oh, I'm afraid that won't be possible, Your Highness."

Both princes turned towards the newcomer, confused. 'Peepers' was leering at them, an unsettling glint in his eye.

"Captain? Is something the matter?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness." 'Peepers' started, his voice low and uncharacteristically menacing. "But I'm afraid Peepers isn't in right now." Suddenly, his eye turned entirely black. "May I take a message?"

Haunting laughter filled the ballroom as the shadows on the walls crept down to the floor, rising and forming into horrifying, cackling demons.

"What the hell are you? Where's Peepers?" Thatcher demanded as he pulled Wander closer to him, glaring at the imposter in front of him.

"Well, technically my dear boy, your friend is standing right in front of you." The imposter replied with a shrug. "That's the best part of owning someone's soul. You can possess them anytime you want!"

A bolt of lightning shot through the air, narrowly missing the imposter's head. "I'll not have you slandering his name, villain!" The queen shouted, her fists awash in balls of electric green energy."

"Ah, but 'slander' implies that I am lying, and I'm afraid that's not the case." The imposter snapped his fingers, making a scroll appear out of thin air and unravel. He grabbed it, snapping his fingers again and making a pair of reading glasses (or glass) appear, putting it on and adjusting it. "Ahem. 'On this day, the nineteenth of March in the two-hundredth year of the Visigoth rule, I, Captain Cornelius Ford Peepers, do sell my eternal soul to the Demon King and Ruler of Chaos Nox in exchange for him causing the painful and immediate demise of King Polonius Cronos Pontmercy Visigoth. I recognize this agreement will mean my eternal damnation to the deepest pits in the Underworld, that Lord Nox shall forever have control over both my soul and body, blah blah blah, something about repenting invalidating the agreement, yadda yadda yadda, ah, here!" The imposter turned the contract around, pointing to the bottom of the paper, where, in clear view, was Peepers' signature, written in black ink.

"What?!" The queen hissed, her voice both angry and saddened.

"Dear lady, didn't you think it was odd that your husband died so suddenly, and on that day of all days?"

"What do you mean?" Tuesday asked, running to her brother's side.

'Peepers' made a 'tsk'-ing sound, shaking his head. "Oh, my dear, you _must_ remember. Poor girl, to be tossed in a confessional like that, by your own father!"

The princess' eyes widened. "How... how did you-?!" She cried, shrinking back in fear.

"And you, Your Highness! To be so reviled for simply taking a moment of pleasure in a lifetime of misery! Surely you must remember that day as well?"

The king-to-be shrunk back, swallowing hard. "I..."

"Enough!" The queen cried, her hands alighting once more. "Show your true form, monster!"

The imposter sighed, shrugging. "If you insist."

The monocular man's eye suddenly went wide, his entire body shaking as it became enveloped in darkness, which after a moment drifted up, up, up, until it was floating above Peepers' body entirely. The captain moaned, his eye, having had returned to normal, closing as he fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Peepers!" The queen cried, running to her friend.

The amorphous blob of dark energy dashed into the center of the ballroom, the terrified nobles shrieking as they drew away from it. In an instant, the blob splashed onto the ground, the droplets spreading over the floor before converging in the center, rising to form a tall, well-dressed man, one in a black silk top hat who flicked his tail and grinned at the crowd.

"Ta-da!" Nox said, spreading his arms. "Lord Nox, King of Demons and Ruler of Chaos, at your service!"

Wander's eyes widened, his grip on Thatcher loosening. "You..."

The demon king grinned. "Ah, so you've heard of me, little prince! I shouldn't be surprised, though; after all, what should your meetings with dear Gaia contain if not history lessons?"

The orange prince gasped in surprise. "H... How did you-?!"

Nox simply grinned, snapping his fingers. In an instant, two demons were on either side of him, grabbing his arms and pulling him into the air.

"H-Hey!"

"I'll be taking this!" Nox said, watching as his minions pulled the prince towards the highest window.

"Wander!" Thatcher cried, running after his intended.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Nox snapped his fingers, causing the demons to stop in midair. In an instant, the demon king was standing in front of the king-to-be, his hand on the clasp of his cloak.

"A little birdie told me that you planned to tell your intended of your little secret after the ball tonight."

Thatcher's eyes widened. "N-No. No, don't you dare-!"

"Oh, what can you do, little king? What's your power compared to mine? Even what you inherited from that fool Ouranos cannot even begin to equal mine." The grin on Nox's face was twisted as he pulled off Thatcher's cloak, the crowd around them gasping when they saw the skeletal being beneath the cloak.

The demon king cackled as he forced the prince regent to look into his intended's eyes, the demons holding Wander doing the same.

"Look upon your dear Thatcher, Wander! Still think he's _cute?"_

"Th... Thatcher..." Wander whispered, staring down in shock at his betrothed.

Nox cackled once more, casting Thatcher aside easily and snapping his fingers. Peepers melted into the floor, popping back up by Nox's side, where the demon king picked him up.

"Well, this has been a true delight, but now that I've finally got payment for the deal you made with me, dear Prince Thatcher..." He saluted, grinning menacingly. "Farewell!"

With that, Nox, Peepers, the demons, and Wander all disappeared, the orange prince's screams cut short in an instant.

"Wander!"


	11. Past Days

"...nder... Wander... Wander, darling, please, wake up!"

The orange prince groaned quietly, slowly opening his eyes to see Gaia hovering over him. "G... Gaia?"

The goddess let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness you're alright! I'm sorry that I had to pull you in like this, but I didn't have time to make it more comfortable for you two!"

"... 'Two'?" Wander asked, sitting up and giving her a confused look.

Beside him, someone groaned, and when he looked over Wander saw Peepers rubbing his head as he sat up.

"The hell happened last night...?" The captain mumbled before blinking, his eye widening when he saw the unfamiliar hall around him. "Whoa. Where the hell am I?"

"Captain?" Wander started gingerly, tapping the other alien on the shoulder.

"Gah!" Peepers shrieked as he jumped to his feet. "Why the hell are you here?!" He demanded before looking over at Gaia. "And who the hell is she?!"

Gaia chuckled, walking over to Peepers and kneeling to his height. "Rest easy, good captain, for no harm shall come to you here. I am Gaia, Queen of Earth and Protector of all that inhabit it."

Peepers blinked, looking shocked. "G-Gaia?! B-But... But I- This isn't right! I shouldn't be here, I'm- I sold my soul to Nox!"

"I am aware, dear one, but did you not repent?"

"I... I suppose I did, but Nox said-!"

The goddess smiled, pulling the monocular alien into her arms. "Dear Captain, it is never too late to repent. Though Nox did delay your words, I have still heard them, and I forgive your sins." She pressed a kiss to the top of Peepers' upper eyelid. "You are free, and your soul is forever under my protection. He cannot harm you again."

Suddenly, Peepers' entire form was bathed in a green light, which faded after a few seconds. The captain looked up, his eye watery.

"Is... is really that easy? After all I've done-!"

"What you did you did for the purpose of protecting the ones you love most. You sinned, yes, but you sinned to protect your children from a man whose sins greatly outweigh yours."

"C-Children?! Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I don't have any children!"

Gaia laughed. "Oh, you may not have played a role in their conception, but you are more of a father to them than Polonius ever was. Thatcher and Tuesday are as much your son and daughter as you are a Captain, dear one. And they love you as much as any child could love their father."

The goddess smiled down at him, wiping a tear from his eye. Suddenly, she stumbled back, holding her head in her hands and groaning.

"Gaia!" Wander cried, running to her side. "What's wrong?! Are you okay?!"

"O-Oh, I'm fine, dear... I just haven't had to divide my presence like this in quite a long time..."

"'D... Divide'? What does that mean?"

The goddess grinned at him, though she still looked pained. "My dear, you did not think I wouldn't assist your fiancé in finding you, did you?"

The crowd had erupted into a panic, nobles yelling and shouting, demanding answers as to what was happening, why a skeleton was about to become king, who had kidnapped the orange prince.

Thatcher quietly snuck over to where Nox had tossed his cloak, picking it up and putting it back on, all the while only being able to think about Wander.

_Where is he? Is he safe? Gob, he must be scared out of his mind! I have to get him back! _

"Hey!"

The king-to-be suddenly found himself turned around, a fist aimed at his jaw and the Zbornak that fist belonged to glaring at him with unadulterated fury in her eyes.

"You have three seconds to explain yourself before I pummel you to a bloody pulp, Skullboy!"

Before Thatcher could get a word in, the Captain was pulled back, his mother gripping the Zbornak's arm tightly.

"I'll thank you not to threaten my son, _Captain," _the Queen expressed through grit teeth. "I'd hope that you'd remember who employs you."

Sylvia scoffed, shoving the Queen away. "And I'll thank _you _to remember that I could go back to my old job any time I want! And what the hell kind of game are you playing, lady?! Tricking my best friend into marrying _that, _how dare you?!"

"I never tricked anyone!"

"No, but you certainly never saw fit to disclose _that _little detail, now did you?!" Ana interrupted, moving between the Captain and the other Queen.

"What does it matter? Are you so shallow that you'd break the arrangement?!"

"It's not shallow to assume that your son's intended is _alive!" _

Andromache's hands became immersed in electric energy, Tuesday having to rush forward and hold her mother back so that she wouldn't charge at the smaller queen.

"Mother!"

Corsair quickly drew her sword. "Oh, let her go, Tuesday! I'll gladly fight this liar!"

The entire ballroom had erupted into shouts and arguing, the royals screaming accusations at each other at the top of their lungs, tensions rising and rising until-

"_SHUUUUUUT UUUUUUPPP!"_

The entire room fell silent, everyone staring in shock at the furious king-to-be.

"Enough! Fighting amongst ourselves won't solve anything!" His hands went alight with green energy. "If you are not a member of either the royal family of Morteria, the royal family of the Star Nomad Empire, or the Royal Guard, then get the hell out of my ballroom right _now!"_

The nobles hesitated for a moment, murmuring amongst themselves for a moment and not making any move to leave. Thatcher growled in frustration, shooting a bolt of green electric energy at the floor close to the crowd's feet.

"_GET OUT!"_

There was a shrill scream as the crowd rushed out of the room, panicking and fleeing for fear that the angry prince regent would zap them to crisps.

There was silence for a moment after the nobles were all gone, only the royal families, the Guard Captain, and a few Watchdogs left in the room.

"... So _that's _why they call him 'Lord Hater'." Westley stated. The Watchdog next to him, a fellow named Oliver, elbowed him sharply, clearing his throat.

"Ow! What, I was just saying!"

If Thatcher had heard him, he gave no indication, as he simply turned to the royal families and the Captain, his expression stern.

"There's no use in fighting. The more time we waste, the farther away that monster can take my intended." He turned to face Ana. "Madam, if you feel we have deceived you, then I apologize. However, I ask that you reserve any decisions on whether or not you'd like to continue our arrangement until after Wander has returned safely."

"Are you saying that you wouldn't go after him if I decided to end the arrangement?" The queen demanded, her words accusatory.

Thatcher turned away, pulling up his hood so that the queen couldn't see the pained expression on his face. "No, I would still go after him." _After tonight, though, I doubt that he'll stay._

The queen was quiet for a moment. "Very well," She said finally, "I'll reserve my decision until then."

"Thank you. I also ask that, while my mother and I are gone, you watch over our kingdom."

"You're bringing your _mother _with you?!" Corsair asked incredulously.

"Of course." Beneath his hood, the king-to-be grinned. "After all, what sort of fool would I be if I didn't take the Rebel Queen with me?"

"... Okay, I'm sure there's an awesome story behind that name, but we don't have time for that!" Sylvia interjected, pushing to the front. "Whatever you're doing, I'm coming too. I'm not gonna let some creep just take Wander away!"

"I didn't expect anything less from you, Captain." Andromache replied, a smug smile on her face at being reminded of her old nickname.

Thatcher nodded, turning towards the Watchdogs. "Ready a ship. We leave in an hour."

"Wait, do you even know where you're going?" Tuesday asked, crossing her arms.

"No, but they couldn't have gotten too far, right?"

"Dude, we're talking about the God of Chaos here. For all we know Wander's in another dimension right now!"

Thatcher rolled his eyes. "Oh, please-!"

"No, I'm afraid she's right, dear."

The king-to-be froze, his eyes going wide at the sound of a familiar voice that he hadn't heard in years. Slowly, he turned around, not quite believing who he was seeing.

"N... Nanny Bellerose?"

The older woman smiled at him. "Hello, dearie. My, how you've grown."

Thatcher turned to his mother, incredulous. "I... I thought that you said she passed five years ago."

"I told you what I was told!"

"Indeed, that is what you were told, although it is not the first time you've been informed of my passing, my dear queen."

Andromache blinked in confusion. "What...?"

With a smile still on her face, the woman closed her eyes, her entire form going white and shifting, the light eventually fading away to reveal a younger, darker-skinned woman.

"M-Mademe Amelie?!" The queen exclaimed, looking shocked.

"Who?"

"S... She was the woman who lived next door to me when I was growing up! Th-There was a fire when I was around seventeen, I was... I was told that she perished in it!" Andromache took a step forward, her eyes squinted as she stared at the woman. "Just... just _who _are you?"

The woman smiled. "I have watched over your family for many years, darling, ever since the day my stepson came into this world over a thousand years ago." Once again, her form turned white, becoming taller and more willowy. When the light faded, the woman standing in front of them smiled, her hair long and as green as the grass in springtime.

"I am Gaia, and if we are to save Wander, then we have much to do."

The goddess sighed as she sat down. "There they go... don't worry, Wander, nor you, Peepers. They shall soon find their way."

Wander smiled. "Thank goodness... how's Thatcher doing? Is he alright?"

"He seems fine for the most part, although when I came to him he seemed a bit shocked." She laughed. "Though that could be because I appeared to him in the guise I used when I masqueraded as his nanny. He apparently thought that I had died five years ago."

The orange prince laughed as well, looking relieved. "I'm glad that he's alright..."

Gaia smiled at him. "And how are you, Wander? You've been through quite a lot tonight yourself! Being kidnapped, finding out that your betrothed is not technically alive... I wouldn't blame you if you were exhausted!"

"Oh, well, I'm alright... Although, I have to admit, the whole skeleton thing threw me for a loop. I was expecting some kinda disfigurement, but what I imagined involved more skin... and blood... and internal organs... Yeah, really wasn't expecting that." He smiled. "But... I'm glad that he trusted me enough to tell me, even if he didn't really get the chance." The smile dropped off his face. "... But... But why?" He looked over at Peepers. "What happened to him?"

The monocular captain rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, kid, it's hardly my business to tell you-!"

"You were there, though, weren't you? When it happened?"

The Watchdog looked away, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "... Yes."

"Then, please! I need to know what happened to him!"

Peepers hesitated, then sighed, looking over at the prince. "It's not a happy story, nor is it one that I particularly like retelling, but I guess... if you're going to marry him, then I guess you ought to know."

"Captain, wait a moment." The goddess interjected, rising from her chair. "If he is to hear this story, then he should hear it from the very beginning."

Wander rolled his eyes as Gaia walked over to the wall, making it light up. "Gaia, I know the story! Your husband had a kid with a girl, the girl's kid had powers, the kid's kid had powers, and so on and so forth until we get to Thatcher. I need to know _Thatcher's _story."

"And you shall, dear one. But before you know the story of the Lonely King..." The light on the wall faded, revealing an image of a crowded tavern. On the stage, a lone figure stood, one with chocolate-colored skin and dark, curly hair pulled into a loose ponytail. "You must first learn the story of the Rebel Queen."

Wander blinked. "Wha...?"

"Oh, this should be good." Peepers said, folding his arms and looking up at the scene on the wall.

"My friends!" A familiar voice called, Wander's eyes widening when he recognized it.

"Wait, is that-?!"

"Shh!" The captain scolded quickly.

"For too long, we have suffered under the rule of the corrupt, cruel King Polonius. For too long, we have stood by, watching as he takes and takes, bending and breaking codes and rules put in place to keep people like him from abusing their power." The woman yelled, clenching her fist, making bright green sparks appear around it. "And now look what he's done! Not only has he taken the lands of the peaceful Watchdogs, he's virtually made them slaves by giving them no choice but to surrender their livelihoods to him!"

The crowd murmured in agreement, their faces twisted with anger and determination.

"What's to say that he won't enslave his own people next?! Are we any better than slaves now?!"

"No!" The crowd cried, their voices echoing through the tavern.

"Shall we simply wait and watch him become fat and rich while we starve on the streets?!"

"No!"

The woman grinned, her fist glowing a bright green and crackling with electrical energy as she pulled a sword with a guard shaped like the wings of a bat out of thin air. "Then let us not wait around a moment longer! I say we kill the king and start a new era!"

The crowd cheered at that, their fists raised in solidarity.

"_Liberé! Égaleté! Justice!" _

The scene in the tavern faded as the crowd ran out, cheering and brandishing various weapons as Andromache lead them out the door.

"Well, they seem confident!" Wander said cheerfully.

"Yeah. Too bad all the confidence in the world can't make up for a lack of numbers." Peepers stated, looking a little sad.

"What do you mean? Did it not go well?"

"Well, lemme put it this way- Did you ever finish reading _Ceax Désolies?"_

"... Oh, dear."

"Now, you'll need to find a ship that's not a Royal ship, Nox will be expecting that." Gaia explained as the members of the search party (which consisted of Thatcher, Tuesday, Corsair, Sylvia, and Andromache) gathered, the queen pulling her sword out of thin air.

"Whoa. Can I do that?" Thatcher asked, his eyes wide.

"You could if you had let me continue training you."

"Well, will you teach me that-?"

"Guys? Kind of in the middle of something here? You know, Wander and Peepers have been kidnapped by a Chaos god, the goddess who apparently used to be both our nanny and Mom's neighbor is trying to help? Kind of important!" Tuesday chided, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

Gaia sighed, though she still smiled. "As I was saying, you'll need a ship, one that Nox won't recognize right away."

Tuesday grinned. "I think I know a ship."

"Oh, no. No. Nonono. Not _him." _Thatcher stated, his voice filled with dread.

"Yes, _him. _Do you know anyone else with a ship not part of the Royal fleet?"

"Have you forgotten that he's a wanted _smuggler?!"_

"That was one time!"

"He shot a man!"

"Who was pointing a gun at a child!"

"He threw another into the engine of a ship! While it was running!"

"... Okay, but that guy was an asshole!"

"We are _not _asking a criminal for a ride!"

Tuesday glared at him, then sighed, shrugging sadly. "Fine. I guess you'll never see Wander again, then."

The king-to-be made a choked noise in the back of his throat, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists in frustration. "Grrr- _FINE! _We'll ask stupid Magnum for a stupid ride to the stupid place to get the stupid Captain and my intended." He paused. "Who is _not _stupid." He added under his breath.

His sister smirked smugly. "Great! Oh, but he won't help you if you call him Magnum, he _hates _that name."

"Then what should I call him?"

Tuesday paused, coughing and murmuring something under her breath.

"What?"

"... Captain Awesome."

"... That is literally the stupidest name I have _ever _heard. And I _know _what those idiots at the Watchdog academy call me!"

"What happened after the battle?"

Gaia gave him a sad look, waving her hand again to change the image on the wall. This time, they were in a dungeon, a pair of guards on either side of Andromache, who was on her knees with her hands chained behind her back.

King Polonius looked down at her, a smug smirk on his face. "Did you truly think that your little rebellion would work, little _witch_?"

"I am no witch, villain! My blood comes from the gods of old!" She rasped, crying out when a guard struck her on the head.

Polonius chuckled lowly, his laughter full of mirth at her pain. "Of course it does, heathen. But it's a shame. A pretty thing like you, wasted on dreams of greatness."

Andromache growled, rearing back and spitting at his feet. The king grimaced, then howled in shock when the glob of saliva suddenly sparked and lit a fire at his feet.

"Whoa!" Wander cried, his eyes wide with amazement. "I didn't know she could do that!"

Beside him, Peepers shook with laughter, wiping tears of mirth out of his eye. "Heh, that's still funny."

"Wha?"

Wander looked over at the wall, where Polonius was glaring at a young Watchdog who was giggling to himself.

"O-Oh, um... sorry, sir." The guard, who could only be a younger Peepers, quickly apologized when he regained his composure.

"That was you?"

"Yep!"

"... Just how old are you, anyway?"

Peepers simply gave him a look before turning back to the screen.

Polonius walked over to Andromache, kneeling and forcing her to look at him. "Heh, feisty, aren't we? I like that in a girl."

"Ewwww..." Wander commented, perfectly expressing what Andromache face was saying.

"My thoughts exactly." Gaia murmured. "You can't even begin to imagine how badly I wanted to set him on fire in that moment."

Both the captain and the prince looked up at the goddess, startled by her comment.

"What? I'm a goddess, not a saint!"

"Now, normally, the penalty for treason is death, but killing you would be such a shame, now wouldn't it?"

"What?" The rebel rasped, squeaking in pain when his grip on her jaw tightened.

"Yes... I have a far more fitting punishment in mind for you, one that'll squash the unrest for good." The grin on the late king's face made Wander's stomach turn. "What better way to keep them in line than to show them that even their heroes can be seduced by the promise of great wealth and luxury?"

He waved at the scribe, who took a step forward.

"Make a note of this: In one month's time, I shall make this woman, Andromache Derinoe Gramaire, my faithful and demure queen."

"What?! Hey, fuck you, I'd never-!" Her shouts were cut off when the king moved forward, forcing his lips against hers.

"Oh, my dear girl..." He said, his voice slimy and snake-like. "You have no choice in the matter."

"... G... Go to _hell." _Andromache finally managed to get out, her body shaking as her eyes filled with tears.

The late king chuckled as he stood, turning and walking away. "Only if you'll meet me there, _sweetheart_."

The queen-to-be lunged forward, the restraints on her hands the only thing keeping her back. "Fuck you!"

"Heh. You're adorable when you're too angry to come up with a good insult." The king turned to Peepers. "Keep an eye on her, will you, Private...?"

"Peepers, sire."

"Whatever." The late king muttered, walking out the door with the scribe and the other two guards.

The room was silent once the king left. Andromache curled into a ball, silently sobbing to herself.

The younger Peepers looked away awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... sorry. A-About, um, about him."

"... What do you have to apologize for? You're just a guard, you don't make decisions." She snorted humorlessly. "And even then, you'd be better at it then I am. I... I grew up with most of those people, they were my friends." She let out a sob. "I led my friends to their deaths... I wish he'd killed me!"

The scene faded, tears in Wander's eyes.

"I... I had no idea."

Gaia smiled sadly, kneeling and holding the prince close. "You couldn't have known before." She looked over at the wall. The scene changed, this time centering on a crib. Out of sight, Wander could hear the giggling of a baby, as well as a few chuckles from Andromache. "But as life is wont to do, it got better."

"Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more." Andromache said, the scene moving slowly away from the crib and towards a rocking chair. "Men were deceivers ever. One foot in sea, and one on shore, to one thing, constant never." The scene finally centered on the chair, where a happier, grinning Andromache was sitting, a baby, who could be no more than a few months old, sitting on her lap and grabbing at a tiny, translucent green image of a young woman dancing. "Then sigh not so, but let them go, and be you blithe and bonny, converting all your sounds of woe..." The image disappeared into swirls of color, making the baby gasp. The queen chuckled, shifting the child in her lap. "Into hey, nonny, nonny."

The baby cooed, clapping as the shapeless green mass turned into a man, one who was holding a guitar and strumming. "Sing no more ditties, sing no more, of dumps so dull and heavy." The image changed to a tree, one that was losing its leaves. "The fraud of man was ever so, since summer first was leafy." The image changed again, this time into a woman and a man, who were dancing. "Then sigh not so..." The man suddenly stopped, running away as the woman began to cry. "But let them go." A bunch of other women appeared, surrounding the one who had been abandoned. "And be you blithe..." The woman stood, joining hands with the crowd, who had begun to dance in a circle. "And bonny, converting all your sounds of woe..." Once again, the image dissipated, making the baby squeal. "Into, hey, nonny, nonny!"

The baby laughed, clapping joyfully. Andromache smiled, leaning over and kissing the baby on the cheek, then grinning and blowing a raspberry on his stomach, making the baby shriek with delight.

"Heh, sweet boy... my sweet little Thatcher." The queen murmured softly, holding the boy close.

"Let's hope he remains as sweet as he is now."

The queen looked up, smiling. "Will you tell the king that? Or tell him of how I was using my 'witchcraft' around his son?"

Peepers shrugged. "With all due respect, lady, _fuck _the king."

Andromache laughed. "As it pleases me, good sir, _never." _ She replied, shifting Thatcher in her arms. "Ah, how glad I am that technology allows us to conceive a child without ever sharing a bed. Had I been forced to sleep with that man, I may have simply killed him and been done with it."

Thatcher giggled, making Andromache grin.

"Yes, darling, I would have strangled him with the bedsheets, yes I would have!" She cooed, making her child laugh even more.

"It concerns me that your child laughs when you talk about killing his father with linen."

"He's a very clever child, then, if he can recognize what a horrid person his father is!" Andromache replied, standing up and walking over to Peepers. "Here, hold him a moment, I have something I need you to take to the kitchens for me."

The commander sighed as the queen handed him her child, who was already half his size. "Oof! Forgive me, my lady, but I'm not quite sure you've thought this plan through!"

"Oh, you'll be fine!" She called as she walked into her closet.

Peepers groaned, taking a seat and setting the child on the floor. The baby grinned up at him, cooing and grabbing at the commander.

"... Andromache? He's giving me a weird look!"

"How so?"

"He's just... smiling and giggling, it's weird!"

The queen laughed. "Oh, he likes you!"

"Well tell him to stop it, it's freaking me out!"

The queen simply laughed as the scene faded, Wander looking over and grinning at Peepers.

"Aww!"

"... Shut up."

Gaia chuckled, waving her hand again. "As you know, Thatcher inherited the powers of his bloodline, and the king... well, he wasn't too happy about it. He demanded that Andromache bear him another heir, one that wouldn't have the powers." The image changed to Andromache in a bed, holding a bundle.

"And that baby was Tuesday... or I guess she was Timothy at the time." Wander scratched his head. "Tuesday explained it to me, but I still can't really wrap my head around the whole 'sex equals gender' thing y'all have going on. I mean, I understand it, but I still think it's a little silly to limit people like that!"

"People are weird, that's really all there is to it." Peepers replied, sounding a little tired himself.

Gaia sighed, waving her hand again. This time, an eight-year-old Thatcher and a four-year-old Tuesday were playing, Thatcher creating images in the air as Tuesday ran around excitedly. "For quite a while, the two of them were very close, as good of friends as two children could be, until..."

There was a bright flash.

"Timothy!" The young Thatcher cried, his voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of electricity. When the image faded, Thatcher had his younger sibling in his arms, crying and begging the child to wake up.

"There... there was an accident."

"What happened?"

"Thatcher accidentally hit her, knocked her off a table. She hit her head pretty hard." Peepers swallowed a lump in his throat. "She... she was out for two days."

Wander's eyes widened, his hand covering his mouth. "Oh, no."

Gaia sighed sadly as the scene faded, waving her hand before gasping. "Ooh! Wait, go back, go back, I love this part!"

There was a sound like a tape rewinding, everything going backwards until it finally stopped in the bedroom of a young Thatcher.

"Are you sure he's gonna be okay?" Thatcher asked as Peepers pulled the covers over him. "The doctor said-!"

"The doctor said that it was impossible to tell at this point. I'll bet you anything that Timmy will be fine though."

"But what if he hates me? I hurt him-!"

"Hey, I'm sure he knows it was an accident. Besides, the kid worships the ground you walk on, he'll forgive you."

Thatcher still looked unsure, but smiled, snuggling into his bed. "Okay... if you say so."

The monocular alien gave off the impression of grinning, turning off the light and walking towards the door. "Goodnight, Your Highness."

"... I love you, Peepers." Thatcher called quietly from his bed.

The captain froze in his tracks, glancing furtively over at the prince. "I... I, uh..." He turned away, clearing his throat. "I have a very deep regard for you as well, Thatcher."

The little prince grinned, clearly knowing what Peepers really meant. "G'night!" He said happily, closing his eyes.

The older alien paused for a moment, silently slipping out into the hall as the scene faded.

"Awww!"

"... Sh-Shut up." Peepers muttered, blushing brightly.

Gaia chuckled, waving her hand again and frowning as the scene changed to the young not-quite-yet Tuesday in the infirmary, sitting up. "When Tuesday awakened, she remembered nothing about Thatcher's powers. She believed any and all instances of magic she had experienced to be more mundane; fireworks, mirrors, simple magic tricks, anything but the truth." She waved her hand again, this time showing the young Thatcher looking sad as he slipped on a familiar pair of gloves. "Instead of telling his sibling the truth, however, Thatcher chose to instead hide his powers," another wave. A young Tuesday standing at her brother's bedroom door, looking sad. "And to keep his distance from his sibling." The scene faded. "For a while, everything seemed to be fine, but..." Gaia sighed. "The feigned peace just couldn't last."

"I hate this plan."

"Shh!" Tuesday chided, glancing around furtively. "Literally every gang in Capitol City hangs out at the docks; you wanna get shanked?!"

Even with his hood on, Tuesday could tell that her brother was giving her a look.

"... Fine, do you want the rest of us to get shanked?!"

"... No."

"Then shut up!"

The king-to-be rolled his eyes, looking down at the golden compass Gaia had promised would lead them to Wander. "This'll never work. Have you forgotten what Dad did to Magnum's-"

"Awesome."

"I'm not calling him that! Have you forgotten what Dad did to Magnum's people?"

"Of course not, but _we _are not our father. Besides, _Awesome _and I are cool."

"Still not happy about that."

"Oh, shut up." Suddenly, she held out her hand, looking at a rusty old ship. "We're here!"

"... A Lightning Bug? Really? This is the best he could do?"

"Hey! Don't discount the Lightning Bug!"

"They're basically _lemons!"_

"Well, yeah, if you don't upgrade the engine!"

Before the king-to-be could get in another word, the princess shushed him, clearing her throat and knocking on the door to the ship's passenger area.

There was a loud, irritated groan from the inside, the entire ship groaning as the door was unlocked.

" Δεν θέλυδμε καμί-!" The alien who opened the door, a tall, muscular Taurisian with a bandana over his snout and heart-print boxers on started angrily as he opened the door, halting mid sentence when he saw who was there. "O-Oh, um, Miss Tuesday!"

"Hi, Dan!" The princess greeted him, smiling. "I, uh... I like your boxers."

The large alien flushed, grabbing a coat from the rack next to the door and covering himself. "I, um, uh, I... wh-what are you doing out so late?" He blinked, looking out at the group surrounding his friend. "With so many people. Including your mother, apparently."

The queen smiled kindly at him. "I'm sorry for the hour, but it's rather urgent. Is King Magnum in?"

The Taurisian blinked, looking confused. "Uh, ma'am, I'm sorry, but I think you may have the wrong ship. I don't know any kings... or guys named Magnum, for that matter."

"She means Awesome, Danny boy." Tuesday whispered loudly.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, the Captain's in. He's probably up doing... I don't know, making deals or something." He moved away, gesturing inside. "Please, come in."

The party walked inside, observing the somewhat well-maintained living quarters of the ship.

_Well, it's not as much of a nightmare as I expected... _Thatcher begrudgingly admitted to himself as he walked in.

Suddenly, there was a shrill scream, and when the king-to-be turned around something leapt out at him, latching onto his head and biting at his skull.

"Gah! Get it off!" The prince regent demanded, trying to pry whatever it was off.

"Lia, no! Get off of him!" Dan yelled, running over and trying to pull the small alien off.

" _Vat fen är det soma händir häer?!" _Someone else yelled as they ran into the living area. "Oh! Hello, Miss Tuesday!"

"Hi, Cashmere!" Tuesday replied quickly as she too tried to pry the pink creature off of her brother. "Little help here?!"

"Wh-?! Lia, no! Don't attack people!"

Another pair of hands joined the struggle, just as Thatcher felt what had to be some sort of tentacle beating at his shoulder.

"Get it off!"

"Her!"

"What?"

"Her, not it!"

"Wh- I don't care! Just get her off!"

"_Che cosa site idiotia facindo?!_" Another voice yelled, the creature on Thatcher's head suddenly going limp.

"_Sona re! Sona veniti a portaci in prisione!" _He heard a young, feminine voice yell from the top of his head.

The man who had just entered sighed, walking over and picking Lia up. "_Lia, questa donia qui è mi amica." _He explained, gesturing at Tuesday._ "Li non ha intenziona di girire noi, lo promitto."_

The little girl frowned. "_Ma ti hai detito-!_"

"_Non senza ma, picola sinorina. Ora dica Thatcher che ti dispice per il salto sul su volto."_

Lia frowned, then scoffed, folding her arms. "_Mi dispice per il salto sul tu viso. E per voi mordiri_."

"... I understood exactly none of that."

"She says she's sorry for jumping you. And for biting you." The orca-like alien shrugged. "Sorry. Lia doesn't know a lot of Galactic Standard. Or how to behave around people, really, she spends most of her time in the engine room."

"You let a kid in the engine room?!"

"You kidding? I'm lucky if she allows _me _to be in there!" Awesome chuckled, ruffling the hair-like tentacles on the girl's head. "She's our engineer."

"Uh... huh. And... how old is she, exactly?"

"Seven."

The little girl looked offended, tugging at the captain's pants. Awesome rolled his eyes.

"And a half. She knows numbers."

Tuesday chuckled, walking over to her friend. "Sorry about this."

"No problem. Sorry my engineer tried to eat your brother's face."

"Eh, don't worry about it."

"Hey!"

"Well it's not like there's that much to eat, is there?" Tuesday snarked before turning back to her friend. "Listen, Cap, I need a favor-!"

Awesome held up his hands. "Say no more. Everyone, to the meeting room!" The captain glanced over at his first mate. "But first, Dan, go put on some pants. And get your own damn coat!"

The Taurisian flushed sheepishly. "Eh-heh, sorry."

"Wait, go back, I think I saw Thatcher!"

"Oh, I don't think you want to see that, dear."

"Why not?"

"Well, do you want to see your intended with another man?"

"... No. No I do not."

"I didn't think so."

The wall darkened, then opened on a new scene, this time what appeared to be a confessional booth. A man was yelling unintelligibly, and a young person, whom Wander realized had to be Tuesday, cried out as she was tossed inside, the rather ugly dress she was wearing slipping off her shoulders.

"Confess, you-!"

"Nope." Gaia suddenly said, pausing the screen.

"Why'd you pause it?"

"Because listening to this rant _once _was enough for me, if I have to do it again I'll be ill."

"Agreed." Peepers said, glaring at the man on screen.

"Oh, um, alright."

Gaia sighed, waving her hand quickly so that the image skipped to the late king's exit. He growled angrily as he pushed past Thatcher, whose face was splotchy and eyes were bloodshot from crying.

"Shh... shh..." Andromache said softly as she held her child in her arms, Tuesday sobbing woefully. "Oh, sweet darling, I'm so sorry..."

"I... I'm sorry, Mother." She finally managed, gripping at her mother's dress.

"Sweetheart!" The queen cried out, pulling back and looking at her child. "My darling, whatever could you be sorry for?"

"L-Look at me! I'm- I'm all _wrong!"_

"No, no darling, no! There is _nothing _wrong with you, you have nothing to be ashamed of!" She paused. "Except perhaps your choice in dress, I'm afraid it makes you look rather like a sack of potatoes."

Tuesday let out a choked laugh, hugging her mother. "Y-Yeah, I... I don't actually know my size, so I just grabbed the first one I saw..."

"Well, no wonder then!" Andromache smiled, kissing her child on the forehead. "Now, how about we go to my quarters, order a bunch of junk food and watch something cute and silly?"

"... Can we watch _Vile Girls_?"

"Yes, darling, of course. And I won't even try to drown out the bad words this time."

Tuesday laughed, smiling through her tears.

Meanwhile, Thatcher stood, tears in his eyes as he watched the scene, feeling the guilt of years and years of shutting his sibling out and never listening rise up in him.

None of them noticed Peepers, or the angry look on his face as he ran off as the image faded away.

"You... You can probably guess what happened next." Peepers muttered.

The image of the king came on screen. He suddenly seized, making choking sounds and crumbling to the floor, his hands flying to his neck as his face turned purple.

"He died maybe five minutes later. They thought it was some new disease."

"For fear of an epidemic, the king's body was cremated moments after he died." Gaia murmured. "So even though Peeper's deal is broken, the king can never return to his body."

She waved her hand again, and a new scene began. Tuesday stood in a black dress, staring at her brother's bedroom door. After a moment, she knocked.

"Thatcher?"

No response.

"I know you're in there, big brother." She paused for a moment. "I know you won't come out, but... I hope you'll just listen to me."

She turned around, leaning against the hard wood and slumping to the floor. "The ceremony was beautiful. I wore a new dress." She snorted. "One last 'fuck you' I guess."

Still nothing.

"It's funny. With everything he put me through, everything he put _us _through, I thought I'd be happy to see him go." She sighed, hugging her legs close to her. "But... I'm not happy. 'M not sad either. I'm just... I'm numb, I guess."

Silence.

"... Wish you'd come out." She leaned her head against her knees. "I miss you."

After a moment, the scene switched over to Thatcher, who sat in darkness, the broken lightbulbs in his room letting off green sparks. He looked back at the door, pure heartbreak in his eyes as the scene faded away once again.

"We need a ride."

"Sure. Where to?"

Tuesday held her hand out, Thatcher rolling his eyes as he handed her the compass. "We go wherever this compass points us."

"Wait, what?!" Cashmere exclaimed, swiveling around in the pilot's seat. "You don't know where you're going?!"

"Not exactly, no, but I've got a guarantee that this thing'll take us where we need to go!"

"Wh- Captain, as your pilot I am giving my professional opinion that this is a terrible idea!"

Awesome looked up thoughtfully. "Hmm... Hate to say it, princess, but I think that ol' Wooly here might have a-"

"We'll pay you triple your normal rate."

"Done."

"Wait, what?!" Both Thatcher and Cashmere exclaimed.

"You said nothing about paying them!" Thatcher hissed, pulling his sister aside.

"Oh, pipe down, King Pennypincher! I've got it covered!"

"Captain, this is a terrible idea! For all we know this could end up being a _major disaster_-!"

Suddenly, both Tuesday and Dan saluted. "Major Disaster!"

"You two are the only ones in the whole flarpin' galaxy who think that joke is funny." Awesome deadpanned. "And cool it, Cash. Trust me, we'll be fine."

The Baaaah-hallan narrowed his eyes. "Sir, have you forgotten about what happened to you? To your people?"

The Altantican froze, clenching his fist.

The explosion.

His family, gone.

A race of eight million, reduced to maybe a hundred thousand in an instant.

"... That wasn't their fault. They were kids then, it wasn't their call. We could use the money. We're going."

Cashmere folded his arms. "Well, then get yourself a new pilot, because I'm not going!"

Tuesday rolled her eyes, walking over to the pilot. "Look, fuzzball, I know it sounds stupid, but this is in the name of true love!"

In the background, Dan deflated.

"Miss Tuesday, I'm very sorry, but I can't help you get your lover-!"

"Not _me, _you idiot!" She pointed at her brother. "Him!"

Thatcher tried not to notice how Dan perked up at that. "Tuesday!"

"Shut up! Look, his intended was kidnapped, and I don't know where he is, but I'm not about to let his one chance at love get away!"

"Gee, thanks, sis."

"Love you too. Haven't you ever been in love, Cash? Because if you have, you'll know that you can't just give up, not when someone means as much to you as Wander means to Thatcher!"

Cashmere stared at her for a moment, then sighed, turning around in his chair. "Give me the compass."

Tuesday grinned, handing the compass to the pilot. To everyone's surprise, it began glowing, point straight up into the sky.

"Whoa! Okay, so maybe this'll work after all!" Cashmere stated in awe, quickly setting up to take off. "Get back to the bay, we're outta here in ten minutes!"

As they walked away, Thatcher looked up into the sky, swallowing hard.

_Wander... wherever you are, please, just hold on a little longer. I'll be there as soon as I can._


End file.
